


For All the Things I Couldn't Tell You

by fictionalheart



Series: For All the Nights [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalheart/pseuds/fictionalheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after Morgana walks away from Merlin and everything she loves, the two are forced back together after they meet at their old university. Do they have what it takes to face their demons and move on together? Merlin/Morgana. Modern AU. Sequel to "For All the Nights You Can't Sleep."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See? I said it wasn't the end! I have no intention of stopping with Merlin and Morgana and this universe anytime soon. I hope you enjoy this latest installment! And if you're interested in the rest of the universe, my best friend, who's adopted Lyre_Boleyne as her pseudonym on here and who wrote all of Ygraine's passages in the first fic in the series, is writing a story that runs parallel to this one: [The Quest of the Lake](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3904993/chapters/8738899)!

_Five years later…_

Morgana shuts the door behind her and sighs, tossing her bag onto the wrought iron bench in the entryway. She slips off her trench coat and shakes out her soaked hair. It had begun to pour on her walk from the tube to her building, and all she wants to do is get out of her clothes and into bed.

Aithusa bounds into the room, meowing, and Morgana kicks off her heels and stoops down to pick him up. “Hi, baby.” She nuzzles the top of his wrinkly little head and steps into her tiny kitchen. She’s still full from the sushi she’d had delivered to the office, but she lets Aithusa go and pours herself a glass of water.

Her flat is much smaller than the penthouse. It only has one bedroom and no views over the park, but it’s home now, even if it rarely feels like it on all of the nights she spends alone. She rarely has anyone over who isn’t Arthur or Gwen or Elaine, and she never lets anyone sleep over, save the one time Gwen had fought with Arthur and the other when Galahad had appeared at her door and slept on the sofa, heartbroken and afraid to go to Elaine.  

She pads into her bedroom, swilling the water around in her glass, and picks up the box of sleeping pills beside her bed. Every muscle in her body aches and she contemplates taking one now and going to sleep without showering, but the grit and grime of the house she’d investigated with Galahad come back to her and she shudders.

Stripping, she makes her way into her en-suite and turns the shower dial to the hottest setting. The scalding hot water steams as it hits the tiles, and she steps into its jets, letting it pound into her sore muscles. She rings out the rest of the rainwater from her hair and lathers it with shampoo.

Her hair is as long as it's ever been, her safety blanket from the rest of the world. She’d chopped it all off after everything that happened, thinking it would be cathartic and allow her to face her new life with more strength, but all it had done had been to force her to look into the mirror and see someone she couldn’t even begin to recognize.

She’d vowed then to let it grow back out and never cut it again, and she’d stuck to her word. She always sticks to her word, stubbornly, devotedly, and she feels the better for it. Even when it leaves a hollow pit inside of her chest that cannot be filled by any amount of work.

Aithusa's soft mews sound through the rush of water, and she thinks back to how lucky she is for having the cat with her. She’d forgotten him when she’d fled that terrible night. She’d been too distraught with what she had to do to remember to take him with her, but Gwen had tracked her down days later, cat and promises to stick by her in tow.

She turns the shower off and the shrill sound of her phone follows the muted, late night silence.

Pulling on her bathrobe, she screws her eyes shut and hopes it isn't her office. She loves Elaine and Galahad and she’s even grown to truly love her work, but under no circumstance does she want to go back in instead of sleep on a Sunday night.

But of course, she has to.

Aithusa is sitting on the bed, hissing at the ringing phone when she steps into the room to answer the call. Elaine’s office number flashes across the screen, and she sighs. “Morgana Pendragon.”

“Hi, Morgana,” Gwaine, Elaine’s secretary says. “Elaine wants to speak to you.”  

"Can't you tell her I'll take care of whatever it is tomorrow?"

"That isn't the problem, Morgana. She wants to speak to you now."

"Then put her through."

"In person."

"You can't be serious."

“I’m sorry, Morgana.”

Morgana looks at the sleeping pills and her fluffy, turned down duvet and sighs, mindlessly scratching Aithusa behind the ears.  “Give me half an hour.”

 

* * *

 

“This had better be good,” Morgana says, walking into Elaine’s office twenty-seven minutes later. She’d dressed in a hurry, tying her sopping wet hair into a tight bun at the top of her head and slipping into skinny black trousers and the emerald green slippers she can’t bear to give up.

“Isn’t it always, my dear?”

“Not when it’s quickly approaching midnight and I’d rather be home, asleep.”

“You know I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t important.”

Morgana sighs, going to sit across from Elaine at her desk. “Whatever it is couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“This time? No.”

“What is it then?”

“I need you to make yourself scarce over the next week. I don’t want to see you in the office, and you’ll be working on your own for a bit.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

Elaine’s stern façade falls, and she smiles at her protégée. “Of course not. I just need Galahad’s attentions elsewhere, and I need for you to concentrate on something new.” She turns the screen of computer around to show to Morgana. “Dr. Nimueh, the theologist/archaeologist – I take it you’ve heard of her?”

Morgana nods. “She shows up on BBC programmes from time to time.”

“Exactly. Well she’s claiming to have uncovered something major about the Druids, but she won’t say what. She’s preparing for a major announcement.”

“Okay…”

“I know this is asking a lot of you, but I need you to go down to the university and look into it.”

Morgana narrows her eyes, not liking where the conversation is going. “Which university?”

Elaine keeps her gaze coolly fixed on her. “Monmouth.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.”

“Morgana.”

“I can’t go down there.”

Elaine sighs, leaning back in her chair. “I’m ordering you to.”

“I’m done with the university. I haven’t been there since I finished my master’s, and I don’t see what this has to do with us. How is an academic announcement going to negatively impact our society?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Why can’t you put Galahad on this?”

Elaine laughs. “I know my own son. I don’t think he’d seamlessly fit into the university environment. Besides, I have him on another mission.”

“And there’s no one else?”

“Morgana, I really think this would be good for you.”

“What on earth makes you think that?”

“You’re thriving, but you haven’t been truly happy in all the time I’ve known you. It’s been years now, and I think you need something more in your life. Going back into the university environment for a few days might do you good.”

“So I can revisit the past?”

“So you can revisit the world you loved. Journalism isn’t your passion, and though I know you enjoy taking down corrupt old men as much as I do, I think you need something a little more fulfilling than your investigations.”

Morgana challengingly raises an eyebrow. “It’s important work.”

“Believe me, I know, but does it make you happy, Morgana? You wanted to take down Uther, but Morgause bullied you into doing more, and then you stayed even after she broke her word to you and I fired her.”

“So I have done something wrong?”

Elaine rolls her eyes and looks at the ceiling. “Morgana. Truly, you’re like a daughter to me. I’m saying this because I care, and I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life simply surviving the day to day. I want to see you be happy. You’re amazing at what you do, and it would be foolish of me to push you in another direction. As your boss, I don’t want to lose you. Ever. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t room in your life for something more.”

“So you think I should go back to school?”

“I’ve seen you when you get onto your topics. You light up like you do with nothing else. I think you should take advantage of this case and spend a few days in your old world. Maybe talk to your old supervisor.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you don’t. But as your boss, I’m still ordering you to go down there tomorrow morning.”

Morgana glares at her mentor but then acquiesces, “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m not making any promises.”

Elaine smiles and reaches across her desk to pat Morgana on the hand. “That’s all I ask.”

 

* * *

 

Morgana’s pulse races as she makes her way onto the Monmouth campus the next morning. She hasn’t walked through the university gates or made her way into any of the buildings in almost five years, and the once familiar pathways send memories hurtling towards her from every direction.

The bricks beneath her feet remind her of early mornings walking to class, thrilled to be able to concentrate on a topic she loves. The fallen leaves bring back her first meetings with her supervisor and their long discussions about her thesis. The bright, turning trees contrast with the barren, late winter nights in the library followed by early mornings at the coffee shop.

Everything comes rushing back to her in bittersweet bursts, and she wishes just for a moment that she could go back in time and relive those months in an endless loop.

The past five years of her life have had their moments, but she knows Elaine is right. For all of her accomplishments, she isn’t happy, hasn’t truly been since that night years ago. She’s rebuilt her life and found a purpose. She has friends and colleagues that fill her time, and she’s rebuilt her relationship with Arthur thanks to Gwen’s persistent help, and she has a loving, albeit still strained, family in them and their tiny, little daughter. But she isn’t happy.

She barely remembers what it feels like to have joy running through her veins, to light up and truly feel like she’s living the life she wants to live. She feels invincible but numb, successful but lonely, and she knows she’d give those things up in a heartbeat just to be able to feel again.

A student crashes into her and calls back an apology before rushing off, pulling her away from her thoughts. Morgana rights herself and checking the time, decides to stop by her old department and see if Caelia is in her office.

She’s halfway there when she changes her mind, turns left, and randomly climbs a flight of stairs. It isn’t until she’s wandered down the corridor that she realizes that her spontaneous change of plans has landed her in the history department, and it isn’t until a familiar voice floats out the open door of a classroom and through every nerve in her body that she realizes that Merlin is still there.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for all of your support! I've decided to do things a bit differently with this story and write it from both Morgana /and/ Merlin's perspectives. I hope you like it!

She knows she should turn around and leave, but she finds herself moving closer to the open door. She thinks that maybe, just maybe, if she looks in, she’ll see someone other than Merlin and go on with her day. She doesn’t know if she wants it not to be him but knows she’s fooling herself.

The sound of his voice is etched into her soul, and she knows the Irish lilt of his accent can belong to no one else, but still she tries to persuade herself that it might be someone else. But then she peers in, and there’s no mistaking the mop of messy, dark brown hair and the hunch of his shoulders as he writes on the board at the front of the room.

He’s turned away from the door, and her breath catches as she allows herself a moment to stare. The sight of him wakes memories she’s long since attempted to bury.

Every word he speaks reverberates through her, bringing back late nights in the coffee shop and midday jaunts to the library, and she can almost feel the spectral whisper of his breath in her ear as he smiles mid-sentence and laughs at his own joke.

She hasn’t seen him in years. Not since the night she’d found out and hovered outside the coffee shop, terrified of telling him and even more terrified of his reaction. She’d turned around then and gone home, losing her chance to make things right. Regret had mixed with terror and she’d questioned herself until nature had taken its own course, punishing her for indecision and betrayal.

She stares now, and as the memories awake, she can’t help but wish that everything had gone oh so differently.

 

* * *

 

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Merlin finishes writing on the board and turns around to focus on the student. He catches the sight of a figure with long black hair standing in the doorway and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, chiding himself all the while. It's been five years, and he knows he shouldn't start at every black haired woman and every flash of emerald.

He opens them and finds the doorway empty. The chalk in his hand snaps in his grip.

"Sir, are you alright?"

“Fine. Sorry,” he says, pausing. “Can you repeat your question?”

"Could you tell us more about witches in the time period? And not just the warlocks?"

Merlin glances back towards the doorway and marches over to shut the door. He knows he has a long day ahead.

 

* * *

 

Morgana rushes down the corridor and back into the staircase. She'd gotten lost in her thoughts and he'd seen her. Or at least it had seemed like he had.

Hearing the door shut behind her, she sighs and sits on the bottom step and puts her head in her hands before pulling out her mobile.

Are you in your office?

She stares at the screen and sighs in relief when the three dots pop up and a reply from Gwen comes through almost instantly.

Yep! What's up?

What wasn't up? She types, I'll be there in five. and makes her way back down the stairs and towards the Gender Studies department.

 

* * *

 

"Good morning!" Gwen greets her cheerily, standing by the window to her office.

"How could you not tell me that you work with Merlin?!"

Gwen blanches, balancing Elizabeth on her hip. "You saw him?"

Morgana nods, eyes wide.

"Ah." Gwen pauses, frowning. "Though, what are you doing here?"

"Elaine sent me. She wants me to do research and keep an eye on someone."

"Anyone I know?"

"Dr Nimueh?"

"The one who's always on television? Isn't she away on sabbatical?"

Morgana narrows her eyes. "No? Why would Elaine send me here is she were away?”

Gwen shrugs but visibly struggles to keep a smirk to herself. "So you saw Merlin?"

Morgana nods, fidgeting with the sleeve of her jumper.

"Are you okay?"

Morgana shrugs, looking anywhere but at Gwen. "I've been better."

"Do you want to hold Lizzie?"

Morgana nods and holds her hands out for her niece. A pang shoots through her as she settles the baby onto her own hip and places a kiss to the top of her head. "Hi, darling." Lizzie chortles and she turns back to Gwen. "Thank you. What is she doing here, anyway?"

"Anytime. The nanny’s sick. I’m going to take her to the uni daycare before my class."

Morgana nods, and says, "She's so calming.”

Gwen hums. "You're wonderful with her."

"It's hard not to be."

Gwen smiles at her, and Morgana thanks a deity she's never believed in that her best friend had seen through her act and stuck by her when no one else had. Gwen has been the one constant in her life through the years, and Lizzie is quickly becoming her one joy.  

"I didn't want to cause you pain," Gwen says, softly.

Morgana gives one short nod. "Do you see him often?" They never talk about him, and she doesn’t know anything about what he’s become.

"You know I'm friends with him."

"I know. And I know I said I didn't want to know anything, but..."

"Yes, I see him often."

Morgana looks back down and gives an exaggerated smile when she sees Lizzie looking up at her.

"How is he?" she finally asks.

"Morgana."

"Please. Humour me this once."

"He's doing well. Better. He finished his doctorate last spring."

"That's wonderful." She doesn't know if she's dizzy or overwhelmed and sits down in the chair in front of Gwen's desk, carefully placing Elizabeth in her lap. She hasn’t let herself think of Merlin in ages, even if he still haunts her dreams, and facing a reality in which he is very much still present is difficult for her to deal with on such short notice. "What did he do it on?"

"The historical symbolism behind a lost legend. Something about a dragon?"

A pang rushes through her at that. "About Aithusa?"

"I'm not sure?"

"You’d remember if the dragon had the same name as my cat!"

Gwen simply glares at her.

"Okay, fine." She laughs, but she knows it sounds just as fake to Gwen as it does to her. Readjusting Lizzie's perfectly adjusted sock, she gives in to the other plaguing question and quietly adds, "Is he married?"

"Morgana..."

Her heart races as Gwen speaks, and she knows she’s being silly. It’s been five years, and of course he’s moved on. “He is then. That’s great.”

Gwen shakes her head. “He’s not married. He isn’t even seeing anyone, as far as I know.” She pauses. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine! Or I will be very soon. It was just a shock is all.”

Gwen looks from her to Lizzie and then nods. “Shall we go get coffee? I have to give a lecture in an hour, but I have time until then.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin bursts into Gwen’s office after his tutorial fifty minutes later. He knows she needs to leave soon, and he wants to get five minutes in with her before she does, if only to reassure himself that he isn’t going mad.

"I'm going mad."

“What have we said about knocking?”

Merlin winces. He never remembers, no matter how many times he’s told. “That I’m going mad?”

"You're not going mad."

"I thought I saw Morgana."

Gwen sighs, leaning back in her chair, and Merlin thinks she looks a tiny bit peeved. "That’s because you did see Morgana."

"How?"

"She's on campus."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"She didn’t tell me. I just found out an hour ago!"

"Still! You could have messaged me.”

“She saw you before I found out!” Gwen sighs again and gets up, reaching for her bag. "I have to go to B107. Walk with me?"

Merlin nods and asks, "Where is she now?"

"She took Lizzie to day-care."

Merlin swallows and follows Gwen out of her office. She’d been here then, minutes before him, and the thought of running into her so soon makes him feel ill.

"What is she doing here?"

“Merlin, you know our agreement.”

“Don’t you think this calls for an exception? She’s in my workplace! She was hovering outside the door to my classroom.”

“She wasn’t hovering.”

“But she was there!”

“By mistake!”

Merlin doesn’t know why disappointment shoots through him, but there’s no denying that it does. “So she doesn’t want to see me.”

“Merlin.”

“Can you please just tell me what she’s doing here so I can be prepared?”

“She’s here for work, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Fine. For how long?”

“The week. At least?”

Merlin nods. That he could deal with. Or he could hope to fall ill and spend the week at home. Or get called to a last minute conference in Paris. Or need to go see a friend’s doctoral defence. In Ireland.

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I know it isn’t easy.”

“Thanks, Gwen. It’ll be fine.”

The night he’d spent drinking and divulging secrets that he didn’t even realize he still had after breaking up with Freya is barely months in the past, and he knows he isn’t fooling Gwen.

She gives him a sceptical look and nods. “If you say so.”

Merlin shrugs. “What’s the likelihood that I’m going to run into her again, anyway?”

 

* * *

 

High. The likelihood was a high one. He sees her out on the quad after leaving Gwen in her lecture room. She’s pushing Lizzie along in her pram, visibly talking to her and stopping to check on her every few feet.

Merlin feels like he’s been trampled by a horse. It’s different now that he knows that it’s her, that he isn’t simply seeing things in masochistic delusions. The long, dark hair is hers, and the sad smile on her face as she points at an unusually large bird that’s landed in front of the pram, much to Lizzie’s amusement, is hers, and Merlin knows that he’s lied to Gwen.

He isn’t going to be fine if he has to see her in his workplace every day for a week. He doesn’t even think he’s going to make it back up the steps of the quad before she sees him.

 

* * *

 

Morgana parks Lizzie’s pram beside a bench and sits, pulling the almost-toddler out onto her lap. She should be in day-care, and she has every intention of taking her there, but she wants to take her for a walk first.

She hasn’t been able to spend much time with her niece lately, and what she’d told Gwen was true. Spending time with Lizzie calms her down, and she’s desperately in need of calm.

She doesn’t know why she’s agreed to Elaine’s plan, why she’s sitting in the middle of the quad, battling her nerves when she could be at home, composed and far away from her past, from the very real ghost of Merlin.

Seeing him again has woken all the memories she’s repressed over the past few years, and bouncing Lizzie in her lap does nothing to distract her, even as her chortling giggles try to break through her thoughts.

“Your Aunt Morgana’s screwed, isn’t she?”

Lizzie giggles, and Morgana sighs.

They sit there quietly for a while, watching the birds and the fluttering leaves until Morgana’s phone buzzes with a reminder from Elaine to go to Dr Nimueh’s lunchtime lecture on the Druids.

And don’t forget to have fun!! ;)

Morgana smiles at the screen, despite herself. For all her annoyance with Elaine for sending her to the university, she knows her mentor has nothing but the best intentions. She tosses her phone back into her bag and stands to put Elaine back in the pram.

“Let’s go shall we, darling?”

 

* * *

 

The lecture starts out by being fun. She’s missed sitting in auditoriums and taking notes on truly interesting topics, and she sits near the front, to the side, and loses herself in Nimueh’s talk on Druid history. The time period and people aren’t so very far off from her old area of research, and she finds herself wishing she’d never left it behind. She makes a note to herself to email Caelia and see if she can see her the next day, and sits back to absorb the rest of the talk.

But then halfway through, the back door squeaks open, and she turns to find Merlin apologetically sneaking into the room. He quietly makes his way through the rows and sits with a group of history professors she recognizes from her time.

She turns back to the podium at the front of the room and freezes as blood rushes to her cheeks. She decides to ignore his presence and pretend that nothing has changed in the room, but she finds her eyes wandering to the side every few minutes until she realizes she’s staring and fixates on the notebook in front of her.

There’s no denying that he has an effect on her even after all of these years, even though he’s halfway across the auditorium. He’d burrowed his way into her heart years ago and for all the pain she’s caused, for all the things she’s suffered, she’s never managed to expunge the memory of his love.

Her eyes flick back to him against her will, and this time, she finds him staring back at her.  

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry for the late update. I ended up writing eighty pages of papers over about three weeks, so I had to put writing on hold for a bit. I'm done now though! And I spent yesterday plotting the next ten or so chapters of this fic, so I should be much better about updates in the near future. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Oh, and this gets a bit cracky with the vegetable stuff, but one of my professors made a hilarious analogy while we were studying... and both Lyre_Boleyne and I were in the class, so I had to make use of it? You'll see what I'm talking about.

Refusing to turn back and look at Merlin, Morgana walks to the front of the room and approaches Dr. Nimueh. A group of people are waiting to speak to her, and Morgana goes to stand with them.

She always used to be at ease with approaching academics after their talks, blissfully unaffected by her lower rank or supposed intellectual inferiority, but nerves she hasn’t felt since her first year at Oxford rush back to her, and she’s almost afraid to speak by the time she gets to Dr. Nimueh.

She gets over it, though, when the others around her disappear and Dr. Nimueh impatiently looks at her.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, sorry. Hello.” Morgana blinks and smiles, flushing at her uncharacteristic awkwardness. “That was a fascinating lecture.”

Dr. Nimueh nods. “Thank you. If that’ll be all, I have a meeting to get to.”

“I was just wondering whether it might be possible to meet with you later this week. I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”

“Are you a student here?” Dr. Nimueh asks, narrowing her eyes at Morgana.

Morgana swallows. “I’m a doctoral candidate,” she lies and stands straighter.

Dr. Nimueh nods. “I suppose I can make time for you then. When would you like to meet?”

“Whenever works for you.”

“Friday? Ten o’clock?”

“Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

Motivated by their talk, Morgana decides to get started on the research she’d promised Elaine she’d do on her own. She winds her way down the staircase from the lecture hall and makes her way past the bronze statue of Geoffrey of Monmouth in the entryway, and out the back door of the building.

The library sits across the quad, an imposing stone building, covered in ivy that claims to be almost nine hundred years old in parts. She’d spent her fair share of time in its walls. She’d loved going late at night, long after everyone else had gone home, and early in the morning, long before others would appear. She’d sneak in cups of coffee and freshly baked scones Gaius would hand her, insisting that she eat before she study.

She’d felt at home in the library, nestled between books and comfortable armchairs and hundreds of years of history, and she feels calm wash over her as she approaches it after all of this time.

Sighing, she wonders if she’ll find it much changed, if the walls will suddenly be a different colour, or if for some reason, the university had decided to redecorate in the way she’d used to wish they would.

Bookshelves dance before her as she walks across the quad, but then they suddenly snap away as Merlin makes his way down its stairs, phone pressed to his ear.

He’s smiling, and before she has time to decode his expression, his has his back turned to her and her breathing becomes more laboured as she approaches.

He’s speaking animatedly, free hand waving in the air.

She knows she should do the grownup thing and approach him, and she hesitates, taking one step closer to him and another towards the library steps. She wavers, unsure what to do, and then she catches a snippet of his conversation and a series of “love” and affectionate sounding words make up her mind for her, and she hurries away to spend the rest of the day buried in the anthropology stacks.

The library is surprisingly quiet for the time of year, and as Morgana makes her way through the rows, she surveys the different memories that play through her mind.

The first time she’d seen Merlin outside of the coffee shop had been in the library. It had been two a.m. a couple of weeks into their friendship, and Merlin had appeared at her table after they’d exchanged a long stream of messages. Two cups of takeaway coffee and his own research in hand, he’d settled in across from her, and they’d spent the night exchanging silent and questioning gazes over their laptops and books.

Turning a corner into the section on the Druids, she shakes the memory away. The day has been painful enough without sinking even deeper into reminiscence.

She goes through the shelves, picking out titles. It isn’t the most efficient way to do research, but she needs the comfort she draws from physically perusing the shelves. She runs her hands along the spines and wonders how she’d ever left this world behind.

Her arms full of half a dozen volumes, she makes her way to where the shelves meet an empty section of the wall and slides down, settling onto the floor. She doesn’t want to sit in plain sight, out near the study tables, doesn’t want to risk running into anyone else.

She begins to read and take notes in her notebook, and before she knows it, it’s late afternoon, and Gwen is messaging her to ask if she wants to come over for dinner.

She smiles at her friend’s good intentions and types, _Not tonight. :( I need takeaway and sleep_.

_You’re going to mope, aren’t you?_

_:O I do not mope._

_Fine. Later this week then? Arthur can cook!_

Morgana smirks. Somehow, to everyone’s confusion, Arthur had become the chef of the family. That, however, didn’t mean that they’d stopped teasing him about all the fires he’d started before he’d married Gwen and learned to cook. _So you’re inviting me over to watch your house burn down?_

 _Of course. There’s nothing cosier_.

_Of course not. I’ll see you later this week, then._

_Good!_ _And Morgana?_

_Yes?_

_I’m just a phone call away if you need anything._

 

* * *

Running late, Merlin makes his way into the supermarket and heads straight for the refrigerated dairy section. He's out of milk and bread and just about everything and he has ten minutes to get all of his shopping done before he needs to race home and then across town to meet Viviane.

He shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this, but he can’t justify eating out when he can cook for himself.

He grabs a bottle of almond milk, a loaf of whole grain bread and then walks into the vegetable section, intent on picking up some more kale for his dinner.

He stops short.

Standing next to the kale, picking out courgettes is Morgana.

He's never seen her in this shop, never even seen her in this part of town, but there's no denying that it's her. The glistening hair, the set of her shoulders, and the emerald green trench coat he’d seen her wearing earlier in the day.  

Swallowing thickly, he decides he doesn't need any kale after all. He does need some sort of vegetable though, and he looks around. The cauliflower is sitting behind the courgettes, allowing him to get closer. Close yet far enough that he can pretend not to see her or to seem to be surprised if she does.

He suddenly decides that he likes cauliflower.

Very much.

He remembers the way she’d hesitated outside the library – because he had seen her, of course he had, and, watching as she bags the courgettes, wonders if he should stop being ridiculous and approach her.

He doesn’t hate her. He’d say, _not anymore_ , but he’s never hated her. Not when she’d left. Not even when she’d betrayed Gaius and torn his family apart. He’d wanted to, _tried_ to as he’d sat at Gaius’s bedside and dried his mother’s tears, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t understand what she’d done, couldn’t understand how she could have just picked up and left when they’d supposedly been so happy, but despite his anger and his gnawing hurt, he’d known deep down that she’d had her reasons, and for all the pain in the world, he still knows that whatever it was, it must have been a good one.

He’s sick of the pain and the feelings that whirl through him every time he thinks of her, voluntarily, involuntarily, in his sleep, and whenever he sees anyone with her colouring. Every time he hears of witchcraft or medieval literature. Every moment he spent working on the story of Aithusa while writing his doctorate.

She’s everywhere to him, despite himself, despite the years, and for all the hurt she’d caused him and all the efforts he’s made to move on with his life and forget her, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, her unannounced return to Monmouth is the beginning not of a second chance, but of the possibility of one, and he thinks that maybe running into her here, now is a cue for him to act. He isn’t ready to forgive her. Not completely. But he is ready to ask her why.

Taking a deep breath, he turns around.

She’s gone. The courgettes stare back at him, tauntingly green under the bright, florescent lights, and the kale calls out to him.

And he’s left alone, nails digging into the stalk of cauliflower in his hand and cursing to himself.

 

* * *

 

Morgana doesn’t need Gwen. Or claims she doesn’t.

She’s perfectly fine.

She stops to do her shopping on the way home, trying a new shop near the university, and then picks up Thai from the restaurant down the street from her flat.

She changes into soft, cashmere leggings and her favourite jumper before settling onto her sofa with food and a boxset. Only halfway through an old episode of _Friends_ does Aithusa come running in to sit with her and only after he curls up in her lap does she realize that the jumper she’s wearing is Merlin’s.

She’s had it for so long now and worn it so, so many times that she’s stopped thinking of him every time she pulls it on over her head. She’d worn it that night and kept wearing it as part of a masochistic ritual of comfort in the months that followed, but the pain associated with it had long since disappeared, leaving behind only soft cashmere and comfort.

Setting her empty plate down on the coffee table before her, she fidgets with the hem of the jumper, wondering what to do about her day and the days to come.

She could call Elaine in the morning and tell her she refuses to go back, that it’s just too painful and she needs to find someone to take over the mission, but she knows her mentor, knows that she would have none of it or at least force her to talk through her feelings. But she doesn’t want to. Not yet.

She wants to pretend it doesn’t hurt, that she didn’t feel like the wind was being knocked out of her every time she looked at Merlin, that joy didn’t run through her in the library, and that she didn’t feel like life was returning to her as she’d read and taken notes.

Elaine had done her a favour in sending her and she decides to make the best of it. She reaches for her laptop to compose an email to Caelia before she loses her nerve. She’ll try to see her tomorrow and see where things go. If she feels the need to go back, she’ll suggest it. If not, well then, not.

Either way, she knows this week will change things, whether she goes back to the life she used to love or leaves it behind her for good.

 

* * *

 

 “It’s about time you showed up,” Viviane greets Merlin as he pulls up beside the curb on his bicycle. She’s calmly waiting for him, pristinely dressed in a beige pencil skirt, a crisp, white button down, and sharp, black flats that match her soft, black bag.

She’s always perfectly dressed, and looking down at his rumpled blazer, he’s glad he decided to at least change into a crisp pair of jeans that morning. He always manages to feel like a messy child around Viviane, no matter that they’re the same age and have known each other for years.

Chaining his bicycle to a lamppost, Merlin smirks at her. “I’m sorry! I got held up.” He leans in to air kiss her on the cheek in greeting.

Viviane narrows her eyes at him as he pulls away. “Explain.”

Merlin feels the heat rising to his cheeks. “I, um…”

“Yes?”

“I ran into Morgana in the vegetable aisle.”

Viviane’s eyes light up. “Did you speak to her?”

“No. I wanted to buy kale, but she was buying courgettes, and the courgettes are right next to the kale. So I decided to buy some cauliflower instead. I like cauliflower. It’s a very practical vegetable.” Merlin widens his eyes as he explains, forgetting that Viviane isn’t one to fall for his stories.

He remembers when she slaps him upside the head and starts muttering about what an idiot she’s befriended.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to read more about the first time Merlin and Morgana met in the library, then you can read about that in the first chapter of "Between the Lines": http://archiveofourown.org/works/3944389/chapters/8841127 
> 
> And if you want to read more about Viviane and what she's up to with Merlin, then you can read about it in the next chapter of Lyre_Boleyne's "The Quest of the Lake": http://archiveofourown.org/works/3904993/chapters/8738899


	4. Chapter 4

Bike helmet in hand, Merlin runs his hands through his hair to refluff it and slides down to sit beside the door to Gwen’s office. He’s early and no doubt Gwen is running late with Lizzie.

He’s still exhausted yet exhilarated from the day before. Thoughts of Morgana are at the forefront of his mind, and he hopes Gwen will tell him what to do.

“Merlin?” Gwen’s voice breaks through his thoughts and brings him back to the Gender Studies corridor. “What did you do?”

“Why must you always assume I’ve done something?!”

Gwen raises an eyebrow.

“Honestly, Gwen. Can’t I just come say hello to my best friend?”

Gwen gives him a small smile. “Of course you can, but I know that expression.” She narrows her eyes before moving forward to unlock her office door.

Merlin begins to feign an innocent expression but succumbs to Gwen’s glare. “Okay, fine. It’s Morgana.”

“Of course it is,” Gwen sighs. “Again, what did you do?”

“I didn’t _do_ anything!”

“Merlin! Since you’ve come here first thing in the morning, I’m assuming you want me to help you. And if you want me to help you, you need to tell me what you’ve done! So sit down and start at the beginning. Or wherever you left off after you freaked out yesterday.”

“I did not freak out!”

“I would argue otherwise.”

Merlin pouts and then sighs. “We ran into each other outside the library.”

“Define ‘ran into.’”

“I was on the phone outside, talking to Viviane, and then Morgana walked over. I had my back turned to her, but I saw her in the window. I don’t think she saw I saw, but I saw her hesitating, and I thought she might come over, so I started speaking a bit louder.”

“And?” Gwen asks, narrowing her eyes.

Merlin opens his mouth as if to speak but then stops, looking for a better way to explain. Viviane hadn’t reacted very well, and he doesn’t want Gwen to hit him as hard.

“Merlin?!”

Merlin sighs. There was no way to make it sound any better than it had been. “I started speaking louder, and… maybe… I threw in a few terms of affection.”

“Merlin!” Gwen groans. “Did she hear you?!”

Merlin winces. “I think so? She stopped hesitating and quickly walked up the stairs.”

He scrutinizes Gwen’s expression and rubs the back of his head. She doesn’t look like she’s going to reach out and smack him, but she groans again and covers her face with her hands. “You’re such an idiot, Merlin!”

Merlin frowns. “You’re the second one to call me that in the past day.”

“With reason! No wonder you came to me. You poor precious idiot.”

Merlin looks to the side. “About that. That isn’t all.”

“What do you mean that isn’t all?!”

“Um.”

“MERLIN?”

“I ran into her at the corner shop by my flat.”

Gwen frowns. “What was she doing there?”

“Picking out courgettes. But I don’t know why she was at the shop. I’ve never seen her there before.”

“I suppose it is on her way home. Please tell me you came to your senses and spoke to her?”

Merlin cringes. “No.”

“Did you run? I didn’t think you could get more childish, but please, prove me wrong.”

“No! I’m not that bad, Gwen. I went to hide by the cauliflower.”

Gwen raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even like cauliflower.”

Merlin feigns offence. “I do! I like cauliflower. I like all the vegetables.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know what it is with your new lifestyle.”

“It’s therapeutic, Gwen.”

Gwen sighs. “At least vegetables are better than drugs. And I beg to differ. You are worse than I said, Merlin. How do you propose to fix this?”

“That’s why I came to you! Please help, Gwen.”

 

* * *

 

Checking her phone to make sure she has the right address, Morgana skips onto the curb and slips through the door to a new coffee shop near campus that Galahad had raved about. Elaine had told her she couldn’t show up at the office or appear anywhere near The Grail that week, but she hadn’t said she couldn’t meet with Galahad, and she needs to see her friend.

“Morgana!” Galahad calls over from a table near the wall.

“Hi, Lad!” she greets leaning down to peck him on the cheek in greeting. She raises a brow at his appearance. Perfectly groomed, he stands out from the bohemian crowd in the café, but he’s wearing a thin, clearly ironed, fitted white t-shirt, with no jacket in sight. “Aren’t you cold?”

“You know me.”

“It’s late September, Lad. You look ridiculous.”

Galahad shrugs with a grin.

“You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

“No!”

“Liar.”

“For the love of God! First Mother, now you! How on earth do you know?”  
“You have very telling expressions, Galahad.”

“Fine, then. I have, but I’m not going to tell you about her.”

Morgana grins. “So it’s a her this time.”

“It is, and that’s all you’re going to get.”

“For now,” Morgana teases.

“For now.”

Morgana nods. “Fair enough.” She ruffles Galahad’s perfectly groomed hair and steps away from the table. “I’ll be right back. Do you want anything?” she asks, gesturing at his mostly empty cup.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he answers, smoothing his hair.

 

* * *

 

“That’s it. I can’t deal with more of this before I have some more coffee. Do you want to go to the new place across the street?”

“Ooh yes. I love their matcha lattes.”

Gwen shakes her head. “What happened to you?”

“You know I can’t have coffee anymore.”

Gwen sighs. “We need to fix this. Come on.”

 

* * *

 

Sighing happily, Morgana takes a sip of her mochaccino and sits down across from Galahad. “This is so good. How did you find this place?”

“I have my ways.”

“Well I’m glad you did. So tell me – how’s your week?”

“It’s nice, but that’s all I can tell you.”

Morgana narrows her eyes at him. “This isn’t fair. You know I’m going to find out what you and Elaine are up to before you tell me.”

“Tell Mother that.”

“I have.”

“Of course you have.”

 

* * *

 

“Ooh, this is a cute place!” Gwen exclaims as they make their way inside.

Merlin begins to agree, but then his eyes land on a corner near the back of the shop. “Gwen,” he whispers, eyes widening. “Gwen! Gwen!” he adds, gripping his friend’s arm.

“What?!”

“Loooook.”

“I don’t – Oh, Morgana!”

“Shhhh. She’ll hear you.”

“That was the point, Merlin.”

“I don’t want her to hear us.”

Gwen reaches up and swats him on the back of the head.

“OW! What was that for?!”  
“This is the root source of your problem.”

“I would rather she wasn’t speaking to another guy when I speak to her for the first time in five years. Who is that, anyway?” He asks. He feels like a hurricane is rushing through his chest as he observes Morgana, but he tries to limit his external reaction to narrowing his eyes.

“That’s just –” Gwen begins, but then stops, smirking. “I wouldn’t know, Merlin.”

“Aren’t you her best friend?”

Gwen sighs. “And this is why _I’m_ in this situation. This is what I get for being best friends with both of you.”

“You have to know. She would have told you!”

“I’m not going to violate Morgana’s trust. Besides, she doesn’t tell me everything. She has a right to her privacy.”

“He’s her boyfriend, isn’t he? _Look_ at him.”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “What about him?”

“He looks ridiculous. And cold.”

“He most certainly does not look _cold._ ”

“What are you insinuating?”

“I’m not insinuating anything. For God’s sake, Merlin! Do you want your matcha latte, or not?”

“I don’t want her to see me.”

Gwen looks up, looking for help from some unseen source. “We can get our drinks to go, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please!”

Gwen sighs. “I swear this is like being in school, all over again.”

 

* * *

 

“It’s odd though, Lad. I feel like I’ve woken up and am back where I’m supposed to be.”

“Do you think you’ll stay, then? Go back to school?”

Morgana shrugs. “I do love the idea of doing a doctorate, after all.”

“What do you think you –” Galahad stops talking, looking off across the shop with a smirk.

“Lad? What is it?” She asks, following his gaze. “Oh my God.”

She freezes, eyes landing on Gwen and Merlin standing beside the counter.

“Should we call them over? We should call them over!” Galahad declares, waving his arm.

“Don’t you dare!” Morgana reaches over and lowers Galahad’s arm.

Galahad smirks. “This is for your good, Morgana.” He waves his other hand right as Gwen catches sight of him and smiles.

Morgana sinks back in her seat and freezes as Gwen begins to drag Merlin over to their table.

 

* * *

 

“Gwen? No, Gwen! What are you doing?!”

“You’ll thank me later, Merlin.”

“I’m not sure that I will.”

“Yes you will,” Gwen whispers, with a smile plastered to her face. “Hello! Fancy meeting you here. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, Galahad.”

“It’s always a pleasure,” Galahad says, standing to greet Gwen.

Merlin stares at the two of them. _So much for not knowing who he was_.

“Speaking of _ages_ ,” Galahad says, pointedly looking between Morgana and Merlin. “I’m Galahad,” he says, holding his hand out to Merlin.

“Merlin.” He reaches out and shakes Galahad’s hand. He still doesn’t like the look of him, doesn’t like the smug smile he’s giving him. He stays quiet until Gwen nudges him in the side and adds, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Galahad says and then pointedly looks at Morgana.

Merlin swallows thickly, heart racing. Why Galahad has to rub in the fact that he’s with Morgana and he isn’t...

 

* * *

 

“Hi, Merlin,” Morgana says, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. She feels like a band of horses are galloping across her chest.

“Morgana,” Merlin answers. He looks utterly miserable, holding a very green looking drink. She frowns looking down at it.

“What is that?”

“It’s a matcha latte,” Gwen offers, apologetically. “He’s developed a new habit.”

“It isn’t a habit, Gwen,” Merlin grovels. “It’s a lifestyle.”

Gwen pats Merlin on the shoulder of the patterned sweater he’s wearing. Morgana frowns.

“Well it looks… good,” she offers, awkwardly.

“It is!” Merlin insists. “Gwen doesn’t understand.”

Gwen gives them a pointed stare. “Believe me, Merlin, when I say that I do.”

Merlin sighs.

“So how have you been?” Galahad asks Gwen. “How’s Lizzie?”

“She’s wonderful!” Gwen offers and the two fall into conversation as Morgana drifts off, watching Merlin instead.

He looks much the same, save for the sweater and the drink. And the scruff. She likes the scruff, and the slightly floppier hair. Breathing a little more heavily, she tears her gaze back up to his eyes and finds him staring back at her.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t feel as painful as he thought it would, standing so close to her. He gives up all pretence of paying attention to Gwen and Galahad’s conversation. For all the things that have happened and all the time that has gone by, he feels drawn to Morgana. He wonders what it would be like if he could step closer and greet her the way he’s fantasized of doing.

She hasn’t changed at all. She’s just as beautiful as he remembers, as she is in the old photographs he has saved on his phone. She looks as she always has, is dressed much the same, with the same green trench he’d seen her wearing the day before.

She’s watching him just as he’s watching her, and when she shifts her gaze up to his, he looks down, blushing. She’s wearing the same green shoes she’d wear to the coffee shop in the middle of the night all that time ago, and he feels a jolt at the sudden onslaught of additional memories.

She shifts one of her feet closer to him, and he tears his gaze back up and attempts to smile. He feels like he’s doing something weird with his mouth because he hears Gwen’s laughter break through the mist he’s lost himself in.

“Merlin?!”

He blinks and reluctantly turns back to his friend. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Galahad visibly holds back laughter of his own, and Merlin decides most assuredly that he does not like him.

“I said I need to go. I have to teach a seminar.”

“Ah,” he answers and looks back to Morgana, who’s looking to the side grining, her cheeks the faintest shade of pink.

“I have to go, too,” Galahad says.

Morgana’s smile grows ever so slightly, and Merlin hears his pulse rushing in his ears.

“Merlin?” Gwen says, emphasizing the last syllable and nudges him in the arm. “Are you listening?”

“I am!”

“Don’t you have a class, too?”

Merlin blinks. “I do?”

Gwen looks at him, visibly delighted with his behaviour. “If you don’t, you should stay here with Morgana. But I thought you had the methodology session with the first years. You were moaning about it an hour ago.”

He suddenly feels the weight of textbooks in his messenger bag and snaps back to it. “Right. I forgot.”

Galahad snorts, and Merlin turns to glare at him.

“Come on then,” Gwen says. “Morgana, I’ll see you later? We should get coffee this afternoon.”

Morgana smiles. “Okay, I’ll message you. I need to get back to the library, myself.”

“Walk with me for a minute?” Galahad asks.

“Of course,” Morgana smiles and loops her arm through his, turning back to wave at them. “I’ll see you around?” she adds, looking straight at Merlin.

Merlin nods, and feeling like the ground is spinning beneath him, turns to follow Gwen out of the shop and in the other direction.

 

* * *

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Galahad asks, beaming at Morgana.

“Shut up. I’m angry with you.”

“You are not.” He laughs, nudging Morgana. “You’re smiling.”

She attempts to glare at him, but her mouth twitches and betrays her.

“You’ll be back to the way things used to be before you know it.”

“I didn’t say I wanted things to go back to the way they used to be.”

“You do, though, don’t you?”

“What I want doesn’t matter. I hurt him, Lad. Badly.”

He knows about the articles and Gaius, but she’d never explained the full extent of what had happened, hadn’t said anything to anyone but Gwen, and she begs him to understand with her pleading expression.

“I doubt you could hurt anyone that badly, Morgana.”

Morgana squeezes his arm. “You’re sweet, Lad, but I promise you that I did. There’s a lot more to it than you know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He stops next to his parked car. “I really do need to get back.”

Morgana nods. “I won’t keep you, then.”

“Call me if you need anything. I’ll try to get away.”

“I will. Thank you. And same. I know Elaine said I can’t help you.”

Galahad grins and climbs into his car, waving before driving off.

Morgana watches him drive off and then turns back towards the campus, ready to spend the rest of her morning in the library before meeting Elaine for lunch. She has no doubt she’ll spend more time replaying the events of the morning rather than doing research, but she knows it’s the best chance she has of distracting herself, and so she goes anyway.  

  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my favorite chapter, but we're slowly getting there...

“I’m so sorry!”

“Not at all, Darling. What will you have?”

Hanging her handbag on the armrest of the velvet-lined chair, Morgana sits down and crosses her legs. She’s fifteen minutes late to her meeting with Elaine because she’d gone home to drop off some books, and Elaine is watching her with an amused expression, Martini glass in hand.

“Just a soda, please.” She’s exhausted, and with her thoughts running in every direction, she knows she needs to turn to her sleeping pills if she wants to have any hope of sleeping that night. Alcohol would have to wait.  

Elaine nods and gestures at a waiter.

Her order placed, she turns back to Morgana. “So how is it going at Monmouth? Have you been able to get back in touch with anyone?”

“I thought your main motivation in getting me to go back there was to get in contact with Nimueh?”

“And so it was, and if this were a business meeting, that would be the first thing I would ask you. But it isn’t, and you’ve already updated me on Nimueh via email. So now I want to hear about the other end of things.”

“Well, I met with my old supervisor – Caelia – today.”

The corners of Elaine’s mouth twist upwards as she smiles, reaching for her Martini. “Excellent. Did you discuss the possibility of your going back?”

“We did. Caelia welcomed it. She wants someone in my field in the department and she even suggested the possibility of my starting my doctorate in the next few months and coming on as her assistant next year.”

“That’s wonderful, Morgana.”

Morgana nods. “I want to consider it.”

“As you should.”

Morgana swallows, her throat running dry. “It’d mean cutting back at The Grail. You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not if it’ll means your finally finding happiness. Do you know what you want to work on yet?”

“Probably more to do with witchcraft, but I’m quite interested in the Druids now too, and I’m tempted to look into more and see how they interconnect in literature. I don’t know if I can find the right angle though.”

Elaine nods, taking a sip of her martini. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Now tell me more. Tell me about your friends.”  

“You’ve been talking to Galahad, haven’t you?”

“Come now, Darling, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t speak with my son?”

“You’re both incorrigible,” she begins, pausing to smile when the waiter places her drink before her. “Thank you.”  

Elaine smirks. “You love us anyway.”

“Well I’ve seen Gwen a few times. It’s been nice to spend a bit more time with her. We had coffee a couple of hours ago.”

Elaine smiles. “And Merlin?”

Morgana raises an eyebrow, reaching for her drink. “Didn’t Galahad fill you in on that?”

“You underestimate my son’s loyalty. He refused to tell me anything more than the fact we would have much to discuss tonight.”

Morgana gives her wry smile. She loves the mother and son, and there’s no denying that they’re good for her, but the morning’s encounter still has her reeling.

“Galahad and I ran into Merlin and Gwen when we met for coffee this morning.”

Elaine looks delighted, and her eyes sparkle as she asks, “And how did it go?”

“It was horribly awkward.”

“Did you talk?”

Morgana cringes. “We…” she trails off and gestures with her hands, “made eye contact?”

“What are you? Twenty-nine or twelve?”

Morgana groans and covers her face with her hands. She knows she’s acting half her age, all the more for having cut romance out of her life for so long, but she can’t help it. “You should have seen Merlin if you think I’m bad. I don’t know what’s happened to him.”

She’d prodded Gwen that afternoon to find out more about the green beverage and the suspiciously patterned jumper, and her friend had only admitted that Merlin was experimenting with his lifestyle. He’d apparently stopped drinking coffee and was trying to be as healthy as possible. Gwen sounded amused, but Morgana suspected that something deeper had affected him.

“You happened to him, Morgana.”

Morgana huffs. She doubts she’s at the cause of it all, but guilt reels through her. “He must hate me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that.” She shakes her head.

“You did what you had to do. You didn’t betray him, Morgana. Morgause betrayed both of you. It’s time he knew that, and it’s high time you stopped punishing yourself.”

“Maybe, but that isn’t all, Elaine.”

Her mentor raises a brow, but her look softens as Morgana’s breathing quickens.

“What is it, Morgana?”

Morgana slowly counts to ten, willing herself to stay calm. She needs Elaine’s support and she needs to move past this once and for all. Taking a deep breath, she begins to tell her what no one but she and Gwen know.

 

* * *

 

Groaning to himself, Merlin leans back in his desk chair. It’s nine in the evening, and he still hasn’t finished going through his notes for the next day’s lecture. Why he’d agreed to take part in the series on mythological creatures in history… Sighing, he stands up and stretches as Kilgharrah plods into the room.

“Finally have your fill, did you?”

The obese, grey cat ignores his teasing and leaps, with great and delayed difficulty, onto Merlin’s bed. He meows and stretches before curling up right on top of Merlin’s pillow.

Shaking his head, Merlin climbs over the foot of his bed and onto the windowsill behind it.

His studio is smaller than anywhere he’s ever lived, but it’s home. Gaius had offered him his flat after he’d packed up and gone to live with his mum in Dublin, but he hadn’t wanted to remain in the building, the only one left after all that had happened. He’d shared a flat with some other graduate students for a while, but it’d gotten to be too much and he’d decided it would be best to leave and make it on his own.

Kilgharrah had come into his life soon after that, having shown up in his flat uninvited. Merlin had inquired around the building and the neighbourhood, but no one seemed to be missing a cat, and he couldn’t bear to let him go, grumpy and ungrateful though he was.

Leaning against the window frame, Merlin thinks back over his day, and his mind ceaselessly returns to Morgana. He’d spent the better part of the past five years trying to move on and forget her, but none of the – admittedly few – women he’d dated had been able to hold a candle to her, and after Freya had left, claiming that she was sick of standing in Morgana’s shadow, he’d realized that he was nowhere near as over her as he’d believed himself to be.

Her reappearance had only proved that to be true.

Sighing, he reaches for his phone. He taps on the photo app and scrolls back up to the top of his camera roll. The photos from their time together are still there. Morgana asleep at the library. Morgana glaring at him across their old table at the coffee shop, umpteenth cup of coffee and book in hand. A blurry shot of him in the dragon pyjamas Morgana had made him wear. Aithusa, hours after they’d brought him home. The selfies they’d jokingly taken on the living room floor. The seaside and the campfires they’d made with Arthur and Gwen. Moments from the mere months they’d spent together play out in front of him, and when he gets to the beaming shot of Morgana the morning after they’d gotten engaged, he decides it’s time to put his pride and his nerves behind him and just talk to her.

 

* * *

 

He waits for Gwen outside her office again the next morning.

“I’m not sure I approve of this new habit.”

Merlin stands, straightening his miraculously pattern-free jumper. “I want to speak to Morgana.”

Visibly holding back a smile, Gwen moves to unlock her door. “Shouldn’t you be waiting outside Morgana’s door somewhere, then?”

“Very funny.”

Gwen smirks and invites him in.

“I’m serious though, Gwen. I’ve had enough.”

Gwen snorts. “You’ve had enough? I’m the one who’s had to watch you act like an idiot.”

Merlin glares. “I have not been acting like an idiot.”

“You hid behind a stack of cauliflower.”

“That doesn’t make me an idiot.”

“Cauliflower, Merlin.”

“Fine. Will you help me or not?”

Gwen smiles. “I will. But why don’t you just call her and set up a meeting?”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because she might answer!”

“Isn’t that the point?!”

Merlin looks down, fidgeting. “I’m rubbish at this, Gwen.”

“You don’t say.” Gwen sighs. “I have a stack of papers I need to get through by noon, and I’m teaching all afternoon. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Arthur’s cooking, and we can talk about it then.”  

“That would be nice. Thank you.” Merlin says. He doesn’t want to wait until evening to find a solution, but he feels bad for taking up so much of Gwen’s time. “And Gwen? I’m sorry if I’ve been a pain.”

Gwen looks up from reorganizing the items on her desk and gives him a small smile. “You don’t need to be sorry, Merlin. I know it isn’t easy for you. Either of you.”

“Yeah, but Morgana isn’t the one acting like an idiot.”

The corner of Gwen’s mouth twitches. “No. She isn’t, but she hasn’t been a piece of cake, either.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Doesn’t it go against your rules to tell me that?”

“Not in situations like this.” Gwen sighs and leans back in her chair. “I know I’m supposed to remain neutral, but I want the two of you to work things out.”

Merlin swallows. “You don’t think it’s too late for us?”

“Not if you have hope. You always have a choice, Merlin, and if you choose to fight for her… if you both choose to fight, then there’s hope.”

“You think she’ll choose to fight?”

“That’s something you’ll have to ask her, yourself.”  

“But what about her boyfriend?”

Gwen sighs. “Galahad isn’t her boyfriend, Merlin.”

Merlin’s brows knit together. He’d certainly seemed like her boyfriend. “But –”

“They just look good together. I promise you there’s nothing romantic between them.”

“But.” He pauses, remembering the way Gwen had stayed quiet, as he’d rambled through his jealousy. “You let me think they were together!! The entire time we were there! And when we walked back to uni afterwards!”

“It was for your own good.”

“How was making me suffer for my own good?”

Gwen rolls her eyes and looks up. “Honestly, Merlin! It made you come to your senses!”

Merlin pouts. “I would have come to my senses even without that.”

Gwen nods. “You would have. Days after this.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is, and you know it. Now I need to get to work.”

“Fine. Sorry. Message me to tell me what I should bring tonight?”

“Just bring yourself. And Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“No geometric print jumpers. Lizzie doesn’t like them.”

 

* * *

 

Struggling to breathe, Morgana sits up and rips the bedclothes from her as the mid-morning light creeps through the curtains and lands in her eyes. The sleeping pills had kept her asleep through the night, but the little white pills had failed her. Nightmares had slipped through and kept her locked in a state of terror for hours on end.

Shakily standing from the bed, she feels like she’s drenched in blood and is going to send blood dripping onto the floor. She runs her hands over her legs, as if to reassure herself, and then reaches for her glasses.

Everything is in pristine condition, nothing but crisp white sheets and soft on her bed and heather grey pyjamas on her body.

She knows the images replaying through her mind are nothing but subconscious games, but the memories they awake are no less painful for the knowledge. Unable to shake the sudden sobs that wrack through her, she rushes out of her bedroom and into the bathroom to wash the bloody images from her mind.  

 

* * *

 

Calmer after a long, steamy shower, she wraps herself in her favourite dressing gown and pads into the kitchen. She opens all of her blinds and turns on the espresso machine Merlin had taught her to use. She measures out the ground coffee beans and makes herself her morning latte.

Since she doesn’t have any appointments and has more than enough books to read through on her own, she decides to forego going to campus and work from home.

It’s been ages since she’s spent an entire day on her own, and so she curls up in her little kitchen nook with her coffee and her laptop and settles in, ready to reflect on her talk with Elaine from the night before and decide what to do.

Meowing, Aithusa leaps onto the table top and sits between Morgana’s mug and the window ledge.

“Hi, baby,” she greets and reaches out to scratch Aithusa behind the ears before closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. For all the sleep, she’s exhausted and wonders if she’ll sidestep the nightmares if she drifts off where she is.

Her phone dings before she has the chance to find out. Sighing, she reaches out for it and finds a message from Gwen.

_Dinner tonight? As promised? xx_

Morgana smiles and types an affirmative answer.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!

Arriving at Arthur and Gwen’s door, Morgana shifts the shopping bag to her empty hand and, adjusting the strap of her handbag, leans forward to ring the bell. Though it’s been a little over a year since their move, it still feels odd to visit Arthur and Gwen at their house rather than at their flat closer to the City. They’d moved shortly before Lizzie was born, wanting her to have more room to run around, in and outdoors, and Morgana’s proud of them for setting up such a nice place.

Arthur opens the door, wearing a ridiculous red apron bearing the image of a fire-breathing dragon standing in front of an open oven.

“Morgana,” Arthur greets her.

“Arthur,” she replies, not even trying to hide her grin. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“It’s what is commonly known as an apron. Not that you would need one.”

Things are still slightly strained between them, for all of Gwen’s efforts, and Morgana’s glad when Gwen comes into the foyer, Lizzie balanced on her hip.  

“Hi, Morgana! Don’t mind him. It was a gag gift from Leon after Arthur started a small fire in the kitchen the last time he ate with us.”

Morgana chuckles. “He didn’t!”

“Oh, he did.”

Arthur’s cheeks flush. “I should go check on the soup. I’ll leave you to it.” He gives them both small smiles and walks off.

“Is he okay?” Morgana asks.

“He’s fine. He’s had a long day.”

“I feel bad, then! We should have just gone out or had dinner another day.”

“No, no! It’s calming for him to cook.”

Gwen looks slightly flustered, and Morgana raises an eyebrow at her friend. “Gwen? Are you feeling okay?”

“No! Lizzie was just being difficult.”

Morgana looks at the perfectly quiet baby in Gwen’s arms. “Mhmm.” She pulls off her trench and hands Gwen the shopping bag in her hands. “This is for you.”

“Morgana, you shouldn’t have!”

“I know how much you and Arthur love the chocolates from the shop down the street from my flat.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all.” She beams at her best friend and reaches for Lizzie. “Hello, Darling.”

Smiling, Gwen hands the baby over. “Do you want to go in the living room with her? I just need to check on something, and I’ll be right there.”

Morgana nods, smiling at Lizzie.

 

 

* * *

 

There are times when Merlin starts to think that cycling through the city isn’t the best idea. Most of the time when he makes his way through Knightsbridge and into Kensington to Arthur and Gwen’s. He hates the tube, hates being stuck in crowds underground, but he can’t help but think that taking it tonight would have been much smarter.  
For one, he wouldn’t have almost gotten run over by some imbecile in a Ferrari, and for the other, he’d actually be on time for dinner rather than late and stressed out.

Pulling up in front of Arthur and Gwen’s townhouse, he dismounts and drags his bicycle onto the sidewalk and chains it to their gate before running up the steps.

 

* * *

 

Lifting Lizzie into her arms, Morgana sits on the sofa and balances the chubby little baby in her lap. Lizzie’s a perfect mix of Arthur and Gwen, tiny, dark curls, warm skin, and startling blue eyes. She’s the prettiest baby Morgana’s ever seen, and her heart breaks at all the “could have been”s.  
Sadness wells through her as she smiles at the baby, making faces and eliciting gurgling laughter. She’s so immersed in trying to entertain her niece that she doesn’t even notice Gwen has stepped back into the room until she’s startled by her voice.

“Morgana?”

Morgana looks up, half smile still on her face, and the rest of Gwen’s words jumble together into mixed apologies as her eyes settle on the figure standing next to her best friend.

 

* * *

 

Merlin watches as Morgana plays with Lizzie, immersed in the baby, and he feels an unease he can’t identify. She looks so at home, so at ease with her that he can’t help but remember the dream she’d shared with him all those years ago and wonder what could have been had they stayed together. He likes to think they would have had a child of their own, and he blushes when Morgana looks up a moment after as Gwen begins to speak.

 

* * *

 

“I know you’re both going to hate me for this, but frankly, as a friend to both of you, separately, I know this is for the best. Morgana’s going to be around for the next few weeks, if not longer, knowing her, and you two can’t go on as you have over the last few days. You’re going to run into each other whether you want to or not, and you’ve both spent enough time moping with me, and I love you both, but I have a baby to raise and a career to run, and I can’t spend the next few weeks taking turns sheltering you from each other in my office. And God knows I can’t take any more of Merlin taking it out on vegan juice joints.”

Merlin gulps and quietly nods at Gwen’s speech, and Morgana just stares at her best friend as her pulse races. She’d joked about inviting Merlin when she’d messaged Gwen earlier, but she’d never thought she would actually go through with it.  
“Morgana?” Gwen prompts.

Morgana nods.

“Okay. Good.” Gwen stops, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. “Now, I’m going to leave you two alone while I go to help Arthur in the kitchen before he sets fire to anything. And I’m leaving Lizzie with you. Hopefully you can at least resist fighting with a baby in the room.” Gwen narrows her eyes at the two of them,

Eyes locked with Merlin’s, they both nod and find themselves alone as Gwen leaves.

Morgana finds herself at a loss for words until she finally breathes out a, “Hi.” She immediately begins to kick herself. Five years and all she manages is a measly _hi_?!

“You left.” _Well at least Merlin’s one step ahead of her_.

“It was for the best, Merlin.”

She wants to cringe at her own tired excuse, and Merlin feels as if he’s been punched in the gut as the old words and wounds resurface. He hadn’t understood then, and he certainly doesn’t understand now. “How? How on earth was leaving in the middle of the night the best thing you could have done?!”

She squeezes her eyes shut, the sheer weight of the past stopping her from keeping her perfectly practiced façade. “I did what I needed to do. I had to fight for what was right, no matter the costs, and I knew things wouldn’t be pretty. I couldn’t ask you to fall with me.”

“Well I did anyway.” Merlin shakes his head, unwilling to accept as anger whirls through him once again. “You destroyed us, Morgana, and you destroyed my family.”

Morgana stands and, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, places Lizzie in her playpen.

“That was never my intention.” Her tone is unwavering, and she puts everything she has into it. “Never.”

“Gaius had a heart attack after the story came out, and you broke my mum’s heart. I want to know why.”

“I didn’t – I never meant for Gaius to get hurt!”

“Well your _intentions_ don’t matter!” he barks, immediately regretting his words. He pauses at the harshness in his voice, and wills himself to speak slower. “He could have died, Morgana. Was getting back at Uther really worth it?”

“I did more than get back at him, Merlin. He needed to see justice, for having Gwen’s father killed and ruining so, so many lives.”

“So you put more lives at risk?”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen to Gaius?!”

“You should have thought! He’s an old man and he loved you. How did you think he was going to react?!”  
 ****

“Well then maybe he shouldn’t have tampered with evidence! If he cared so much, he could have come forward and told the truth about what Ygraine and Uther did to my father!”

“He was trying to protect you!”

“So much for intentions not mattering.” She huffs and looks away, her pulse racing.

“What do you want me to say?!”

“I don’t know.” Morgana sighs. She doesn’t want them to fight. Years worth of emotions and anger are pent up, and she knows, reasonably, that there’s no other way, but she doesn’t want it. “I’m sorry Gaius suffered.”

Merlin nods, and they both remain quiet. She looks exhausted. The liveliness she’d carried with her the day before is gone, and he sees the faded bags under her eyes, reminiscent of the nights she couldn’t sleep. He swallows thickly, thinking of the way she’d come down to the shop, tired and upset, of the way she might now face those nights alone.

“We were so happy…” he begins. “I’ve never been as happy as I was that day, and then you…. If you didn’t want to marry me, if you didn’t love me….” He trails off, and Morgana sees the hurt in his eyes.

“I did. So much, Merlin. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

“Then why would you leave?!”

“Because I thought it was the only way.”

“How, Morgana?! How?!? I would have helped you. I would have gone with you.”

Morgana closes her eyes and shakes her head. “We’re going in circles.”

“Then, _tell me_.”

“Morgause insisted that I come alone. She said she had information on you and Arthur and Gwen, and that she would release it all unless I teamed up with her.”

“She released it anyway.”

“Part of it, yes. And I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t tell her about Gaius?”

“That, I did. That was part of the deal. I’m completely to blame for Gaius, and I am sorry he got hurt. But he hurt me too, and she swore that she would keep everything else, everything about your dad and his past out of the papers for good. She swore she’d leave you and Arthur and Gwen alone, and I couldn’t see another way.”

Merlin nods and sits down, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. For all he’s said, he can understand turning against Gaius. He was his uncle, and he loved him unconditionally, but even he had been angry after Gaius had explained. Ygraine and Uther had held unethical acts over his head, had threatened him with ruin, but he still couldn’t understand how Gaius had turned his back on Gorlois, on his profession, and covered up the fact that Gorlois had taken his own life, spurred on by Uther.

"I still don’t understand why you didn't come back? If you'd explained..."

"Would it really have changed anything?"

"It would have changed everything, Morgana."  
“Well why didn’t you come after me?”

“I did, that morning. But I couldn’t find you and you wouldn’t answer your phone, and then Gaius had the heart attack and I had to go back to Dublin, and by the time I came back…” he trails off.

Morgana sits back down and shuts her eyes. “I almost did come back. I tried to call you so many times. I even came to the coffee shop one night.”

“I never saw you.”

“I left before you could.”

“Why?”

Morgana shakes her head, tears forming behind her eyes. She wills herself not to cry. Not now.

Merlin kneels in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. She starts at the contact, but he swipes his thumb to the side, caressing her through her thin jeans, and the old comfort of his touch courses through her.

“Morgana?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. He needs her to tell him, needs her, needs them to be okay.

Keeping her eyes trained on his, she takes a deep breath. "I was pregnant."

Merlin blanches. They’d only been together in that way for a few days. He’d never stopped to think of the possibility. “What happened?”

“I tried to tell you. I found out and I came to the shop. I wanted to tell you, but I panicked, Merlin. I didn’t think you’d want it or me.”

His heart breaks at her words, saying the opposite of what he would have felt. “How could you think that?!”

The tears she’d held back burn in her eyes, and she feels one slip through and run down her cheek. “How could I think otherwise?” She forces herself to meet Merlin’s gaze, and she sees the hurt in his eyes. “I knew better, Merlin, but I wasn’t… I was emotional and terrified.”

He fixes her with a steely gaze. He would have taken her back in a second, welcomed her and their baby. “What did you do?”

“I –” Morgana begins, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I finally made up my mind to tell you once and for all, but then I miscarried.”

“Morgana…” he trails off, but his grip on her tightens.

“I did everything I could to be healthy. I even stopped drinking coffee,” she tries to lighten the mood, but her quip falls flat. “I think the stress was too much.”

Merlin nods and looks away, feeling the tears forming in his own eyes. He doesn’t know if he’s more upset or angry. Not at Morgana. Never _angry_ at Morgana, but he’s upset with her for not trusting him, for not confiding in him or having faith in him. He would have put everything behind him and taken her back without hesitation, but she hadn’t given him the chance. He doesn’t know if she would have gone through with telling him, but the universe hadn’t given her the chance, and for _that_ he’s angry.

He’s angry at Morgause for manipulating Morgana and tearing them apart and at the world for not bringing them together sooner, and mostly, he’s angry at himself for not trying harder. For not rationalizing sooner and going to her instead of waiting for her to come to him.

“I need a minute,” he mumbles and stands. “Before I…” he trails off. “Does Gwen know?”

“She knows.”

Merlin nods and walks out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Merlin walks into the kitchen, looking for Gwen. She’s leaning against the counter, quietly chatting with Arthur and looks up just as Merlin steps into the room.

“Merlin!” Gwen gives him a tentative smile, looking as worried as she does pleased. “Have you two stopped being idiots?”

“You knew.”

“What?”

“You knew about Morgana and the baby, and you didn’t tell me.”

Gwen’s jaw drops open as she hesitates to answer. Arthur interrupts before she gets the chance, putting the sauce cover down on the counter with a little extra force, “Wait, Morgana and the what?!”

Gwen sighs and leads Merlin over to the island. “It wasn’t my secret to tell, Merlin.”

“She was my fiancée, and it was my baby.”

“ _Was,_ Merlin. You weren’t together anymore.”

Merlin shakes his head. “You could have pushed me harder or told me where she was.” He feels the tears rising yet again and he looks away from his friend. He knows he isn’t being fair, that it isn’t Gwen’s fault, but he needs to vent his frustration almost as badly as he feels the need to go back in time and stop things from playing out the way they did.

Gwen reaches out and squeezes his arm. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

He nods and reaches up to wipe the stray tears away from his face.

“Where’s Morgana?”

“She’s still in the living room. I shouldn’t have left her, but I –” He sniffs. “I needed a minute,” he chokes out, the tears he’s held back pushing through.

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen mutters and pats Merlin on the back. “Do you want to go outside?”

Merlin nods.

 

* * *

 

They go out into the little garden behind Arthur and Gwen’s townhouse, and Merlin sinks down onto one of the steps leading down from the terrace and into the garden itself.

Gwen quietly sits down beside him. “So I take it Morgana told you everything?”

Merlin nods, his head in his hands. “At least I think she did.”

“If she’s told you about the miscarriage, she’s told you everything.”

“Why didn’t she tell me, Gwen?”

“She was scared, Merlin. She was all alone and everything was changing, and I don’t think she knew what to do?”

“But I would have been there for her! We could have avoided all of this!”

“Would you, though?”

Merlin sits up straight, his tears stopping. “How can you ask that?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Gwen sighs. “I know you would have supported her. But would you have been ready to forgive her so soon?”

“Yes!”

“Even with Gaius still in recovery and with everything your mum went through?”

“Who’s side are you on?”

“You know I love you both, but I’m trying to be objective. You have to see what was going through her head.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I hate this.”

“I know.”

“What do I do, Gwen?”

“What do you _want_ to do?”

Merlin gives a derisive snort of laughter. “I _want_ to go back and be there for her. And do whatever it is that I did to make her think I wouldn’t support her differently. I want to stop her from suffering alone. From suffering at all. But I obviously can’t do that.”

Gwen scoots closer and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You still love her.”

He does. He knows he does, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to admit to it. He hesitates. “I–”

“That wasn’t a question, Merlin. You don’t say things like that about someone you don’t love.”

He nods. “I should go back inside. I don’t want her to think I’m angry about her.”  
“You know what I think, Merlin?”

“What?”

“This may go against code, but with both of you constantly being more concerned about the other, I think it’s only a matter of time and honesty before you’re back together.”

Merlin gives her a close mouthed smile as he brushes the rest of the tears off of his cheeks. “I hope you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

Morgana bites down on her lip as Merlin walks out of the room. She screws her eyes shut and leans back on the sofa. All of the pent up strength leaves her, and she gives in to the tears, replaying the night of the miscarriage over in her mind for the umpteenth time.

The night haunts her memories and her nightmares, and she chokes back incongruous laughter as she remembers how she’d woken up thinking she’d relived it that very morning. Covering her face with her hands, she lets the relief and the pain wash through her.

 

* * *

 

“Morgana?”

Sniffling, she looks up to find her little brother standing in the doorway.

“Why is Merlin crying and saying something about a baby?” He looks over to where Lizzie is happily playing in her playpen, oblivious to her aunt and father.

“He’s crying?”

Arthur nods. “I can’t say it suits him. He kind of looks like Aithusa when he cries?”

“Arthur!”

Arthur grins and sits down next to her and wraps her in an awkward hug. “Are you okay?”

Morgana playfully shoves him in the side. “Do I look okay?”

“No.” He gently squeezes her before scooting away and turning to face her. “I’m sorry. But seriously, what is this about a baby? Were you pregnant?”

Morgana nods.

“And you had an abortion?”

“No!”

Arthur frowns. “But you didn’t have a baby.”

“No, Arthur. I had a miscarriage.”

“Oh. And you didn’t tell Merlin?”

“No.”

“When was this?”

“About two months after everything that happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

Morgana nods and offers him a close-mouthed smile. “Me, too.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner is as awkward as everyone expects it to be. Gwen keeps conversation flowing, and Arthur tries to lighten the mood by telling funny anecdotes. Gwen laughs at them all, but Merlin and Morgana barely hear them, wholly absorbed in one another.

Merlin gets up at the end to help Arthur with the dishes, and Morgana follows with her eyes as he leaves the room.

“Morgana?” Gwen asks, smiling. “I’m going to go put Lizzie to bed. Want to come with?”

Morgana nods. “I have to leave afterwards, though.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“How did it go with Merlin?”

“Didn’t he already talk to you?”

“He did, but how are _you_? It couldn’t have been easy.”

One side of Morgana’s mouth twists upwards as she grimaces. “It wasn’t, but I’m glad it’s out, finally… even if he’s mad at me.”

“He isn’t mad at you, you know. He’s upset, but it was very clear when he spoke to me that he isn’t angry with you.”

“Really?” Morgana asks, hardly loud enough to be heard.

Gwen nods. “If anything, I think he’s more upset with himself for making you feel like you couldn’t go to him.”

Morgana sighs. “I don’t want that either. In no way is he to blame for any of this.”

“He isn’t, but you’re both the same, Morgana. You’re both blaming yourselves for something that you can’t change. You need to let the blame go and work towards the future,” Gwen says, softly brushing a stray curl off of Lizzie’s forehead.

Morgana nods, staring down at her niece. “You’re right. I don’t want to lose him again, Gwen.”

“Then go back down there and fight for him,” Gwen says, beaming, and nudges her friend.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t hurt her.”

“What?” Merlin looks up from the sink to find Arthur watching him, contemplatively.

“If you and Morgana get back together, don’t hurt her,” Arthur repeats. “She’s only just getting back to being the Morgana she was before this all happened. I don’t want to see her suffer again.”

Merlin nods, wiping his hands on the dishtowel Arthur hands him. “I swear to you that I would never willingly do anything to hurt her. You know that.”

“I know, but she’s my sister. I know now that she did what she did to protect me, and I owe her everything.”

Merlin nods and awkwardly clears his throat, not used to speaking of personal matters with Arthur. “Thank you for tonight.”  
“You’re welcome.”

“We’re back,” Gwen announces as she and Morgana appear in the doorway. “But Morgana’s leaving.”

Merlin’s eyes go straight to Morgana’s. She looks more withdrawn than she had, but the light is back in her eyes, and she’s watching him just as he’s watching her.

“I should go, too,” he says and elicits a smile from her.

“We can walk part of the way together?” she suggests.

Merlin nods, his smile stretching across his face. “Gladly.” He turns back to Arthur and Gwen. “Thank you again for tonight.”  
“It was our pleasure,” Gwen says, looking between her friends. “I’ll walk you out.”

Merlin follows Morgana out of the room but catches Gwen giving Arthur a thumbs up as he does. Smiling to himself, he shakes his head and notes how thankful he has that they have them looking out for them.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Flipping onto his back, Merlin sighs and stares up at the ceiling. Everything Morgana told him plays over in his head and he tries to make sense of it all. Why she would keep such a thing from him.

Why Gwen would keep it from him.

He understands that they weren’t as close at the time, understands that Gwen was and is Morgana’s best friend, first and foremost, and that her loyalty always has and always will lie with her, but he can’t help but feel that he had the right to know, despite it all.

The thrill of being in Morgana’s presence that had run through him all through the dinner has worn off and the relief he’d felt at her news – not that she’d suffered but that there really was nothing to stand in their way – now disappears. He tosses and turns and with every movement, the anger grows until he decides there’s no point in even trying.

Kilgharrah wakes and hisses as he crawls out of bed, swatting at him as he moves the blanket aside. Merlin pushes him away, grumbling, and stands, his feet hitting the cool, wooden panels of the floor.

It was nearing midnight when he’d gotten home from dinner and the long, tension-filled walk with Morgana, and it’s nearing five a.m. now and he hasn’t slept at all. He has nothing but his own research and his office hour in the morning, and he knows students aren’t likely to come this early in the semester.

Padding across the room in nothing but boxers and the thin t-shirt he’d slept in, he opens the window, hoping the cold, night air will calm him down.

He can’t decide if all Morgana’s told him makes things better or worse. There’s no denying that he was relieved that it was nothing worse, that he had been justified in thinking that Morgana had doubtlessly had her reasons, but he feels increasingly agitated, angry that all the pain could have so easily been avoided. Had she talked to him. Had she not left. Had she come back.

He makes his way into the tiny kitchen and decides that coffee is what he needs.

He knows there’s nothing he could have done about the miscarriage, but he wishes he could have been there for her, and he slams the cupboard door as he thinks of her facing it all alone, as if she were on some heroic quest.

He measures out a scoop of ground coffee beans and fills the kettle with water.

The smell of the coffee beans invades his senses and sends him whirling back to the coffee shop, to all the nights they’d spent together, and he remembers why he’d stopped drinking it in the first place. He’d told Gwen and Viviane that he wanted to be healthier, that he felt better drinking tea and that all the vegetable smoothies helped him be more productive, but in reality, he’d wanted to avoid the constant reminders of Morgana. She’d hated tea, laughed at the super healthy trends, and it’d been masochistically therapeutic to adopt the things she’d disliked.

He’d been stupid. There was no denying it any longer. He’d stayed away thinking he was giving her space, and he’d been angry then, and too hurt to do otherwise, he’d let his emotions rule over logic. Because no matter how many times he told himself that she’d had her reasons for acting as she did, nothing he said changed the fact that she’d given up on him and left, that she’d outright abandoned him when they’d been at their happiest.

Growling as the water comes to a boil, he pours it over the coffee and watches it drip into the mug below.

Part of him wants to let the anger take over again, to run off as he’d joked of doing days before. It _had_ been a while since he’d been to Dublin and there _was_ a conference he could attend in Paris, but this had all started from running and he refuses to let this second chance go.

 

* * *

 

“Mummy!”

Morgana turns as a tiny, gangly four year old comes running towards her, her cropped black hair flying behind her as Merlin chases after her. Morgana holds out her arms and the child runs into them, laughing. Merlin reaches them as she shifts the child onto her hip. He wraps them in his arms, eliciting the child’s laughter to grow louder, and just as he leans in to kiss Morgana, she startles awake.

The room is pitch black, the blackout shades drawn to keep her asleep and the book she'd fallen asleep reading thuds to the floor as she reaches to switch on her bedside lamp.

The soft light floods the room, and everything is still, the only living, breathing thing besides Morgana is Aithusa, silently sleeping on the pillow beside hers.

No Merlin. No child who has never been allowed to come to life.

The dream is a new one, but she's had others in the same vein of thought. They come rarely, but they're almost worse than her nightmares when they do, taunting her with a life of could have, should have beens.

Had she not been the only one able to change things, able to bring Uther to justice. Had she allowed herself to be selfish and put everything she valued aside.

For all the pain, she doesn't regret the things she's done. She's suffered and she's hurt others, but she succeeds in everything she does. She brought Uther to justice by going to Morgause. She watched him go on trial and watched as he was imprisoned. She brought him to justice, and she exposes others like him every day.

She does what she feels she needs to do, and she's proud of her work because of it. Yet, when the dreams strike and she finds herself stroking her baby's cheek or wrapped in Merlin's arms, she hopes for her realities to be swapped, to wake and find that the two people she wants at the centre of her world are still there, an arm's length away.

Instead, she always wakes alone.

 

  
  


 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems my "update every other day" streak is over. It may be summer, but it seems the further you get along in your studies, the less free time you have, and I'm back to writing papers. I'm thinking it'll be best to keep chapters slightly shorter than their "For All the Nights You Can't Sleep" counterparts but more frequent? I'm going to try to update twice a week in any case. I hope you enjoy!

Exhausted, Morgana stands between her bed and her closet and wonders if it would be so bad to spend another day at home. Her meeting with Nimueh isn't until tomorrow, and she really wants to sleep and avoid the awkward encounters the day is likely to bring.

She stares longingly at her bed, picturing long overdue, restful, dreamless sleep. She knows she won't get it, even if she caves, and she knows the only way past her dreams is to move forward and push through all of her current obstacles.

Taking another sip of her coffee, she swallows and puts the cup down on her bedside table before turning to her closet.

 

* * *

 

Merlin rings the bell, once, twice. Gwen always takes Thursday mornings off, but he needs to talk to her before going in for his office hour.

A minute goes by and no one answers, and he rings again.

And again.

Finally, the door opens to reveal Arthur with Lizzie on his hip. His hair is smeared in what looks suspiciously like strained peas and his shirt splattered with mashed peaches. Lizzie, spotless and calm, giggles and reaches out to Merlin before Arthur can greet his friend.

Merlin grins and quips, “Difficult morning?”

Arthur sighs. “The nanny’s still sick. He has a bad case of influenza, and you have no idea how difficult Lizzie’s being.”

“I can imagine. I’d say, like father, like daughter, but you’re the one with food in your hair, not Lizzie.”

“Very funny.”

“Remember the time you fell asleep at the table and got soup in your hair?”

“Yes, I got the reference, Merlin.”

Merlin’s grin grows. “Where’s Gwen?”

“She went to the spa.”

Merlin frowns. “I was hoping she’d be home.”

Arthur nods. “She thought you might. She said something about needing a break. I’ve been directed to take over all support systems for the morning.”

Merlin winces. “Is that really such a good idea?”

“I am perfectly capable of giving good advice.”

“Mhmm. Do you remember what happened that one time you got into a fight with Gwen and she refused to see you for a week?”

“Yes, I did everything in my power to get her to forgive me.”

“You broke into her office and lit candles everywhere.”

“It was romantic.”

“She’s an academic, Arthur. She has books everywhere. Papers. You almost started a fire.”

Arthur pouts. “I was just trying to be a good husband.”

Merlin nods, knowingly. “I think I’ll wait for Gwen’s advice. No offense.”

“Fair enough. Want to come in?”

“I think you need me to,” Merlin says and reaches out for Lizzie. “Let’s show Daddy how it’s done, shall we?”

Lizzie smiles and giggles as he lifts her into his arms, and Merlin resists the urge to shake his head at Arthur’s failure.

 

* * *

 

Morgana’s phone rings as she crosses the street before the university. Frowning, she digs it out of her bag, and she feels her heart thumping in her chest when she sees the caller.

Caelia.

Taking a deep breath, she answers.

 

* * *

 

“It’s really not that difficult to feed her, Arthur,” Merlin says. They’re both in the kitchen, watching Lizzie in her high chair. She’s smiling at them, and Merlin has no doubt that he has things under control. “All you have to do is put food on the spoon and place it in front of her mouth. I’ve seen Gwen do it loads of times.”

“I think I know how to feed my own daughter. She just won’t take any of it.”

“Have you tried to make it fun?”

Arthur gives him a deadpan look.

“You know,” Merlin prompts. “Sometimes Gwen tries to turn the spoon into an airplane.”

Arthur looks unimpressed. “I think I know that, Merlin.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“Why don’t you try if you’re so confident that it’s so easy?”

Merlin takes the spoon Arthur holds out to him. He fills it with puréed peaches and holds it out to Lizzie. Lizzie takes it immediately and Merlin grins, turning back to Arthur. “You see??”

Arthur nods. “Why don’t you try giving her a second bite?”

Merlin turns back to Lizzie and before he can fill the spoon a second time, a blur of warm, gooey yellow mush hits him in the face. “Ugh!”

Arthur bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in his chest, much to Merlin’s displeasure.

“You _see?!”_ Arthur mimics.

 

* * *

 

Morgana feels as if her heart is going to beat out of her chest as she makes her way through the literature department and finds Caelia’s office exactly where it used to be five years earlier. She lingers outside the ajar door and wills herself to calm down. She’d initiated contact by emailing Caelia days before. They'd met two days earlier. She wanted to come back, and Caelia wanted her to come back. That she'd called her into her office didn't mean that she was reconsidering the offer. It only meant that she wanted to talk.

That was all.

Swallowing, she knocks.

“Come in!”

“Hello, Caelia,” Morgana calls out, walking into the office. Everything looks as it did; bookshelves line every wall and a stuffed dragon hangs by the window. She smiles to herself and feels as if she’s stepped back in time.

“Morgana!” Caelia stands and motions towards the chair across from her desk. “It was wonderful to see you the other day. Have you given coming back some more thought?”

Morgana nods. “I think it’s time. I can’t get the idea of it out of my head.” She realizes as she speaks that she’s speaking the truth. For all the awkwardness of the past few days, she feels more at home than she has in ages.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Caelia says, smirking. “The department has missed you. We can schedule an official interview for next week, if you'd like.” Morgana nods and Caelia adds, “As a formality.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

Caelia nods. “In the meantime... I've been thinking, and I have another proposal for you.”

Morgana frowns. She hadn’t expected anything more in coming in.

“We’re hosting a series of lectures on mythical medieval creatures at the university this year,” Caelia begins. “There was one on the history of dragons yesterday, and all of the lectures lead up to a conference in December.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Caelia grins. “I’m glad you think so. One of our speakers dropped out. Yesterday. He was going to team up with one of our colleagues to present on witches and warlocks of the twelfth century. Of course, I thought of you. It’s your area, and your thesis was outstanding. I haven’t seen anything like it since. You could rework parts of it, and it would be a magnificent re-entry for you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, and join me for lunch. I’m meeting with Dr. Emrys to discuss your participation.”

Morgana blanches. “Dr. Emrys?”

“Yes, he’s a junior professor in the history department. He gave yesterday’s lecture. He specializes on dragon lore and various attitudes towards sorcery in the Middle Ages. Do you know him?”

“You could say that.” Morgana swallows, looking down at her hands. “Does he know you’ve approached me?”

“No. I wanted to speak with you first. You don’t need to commit right now. Just come with us and you can decide afterwards. See if you get alone.”

Morgana feels like screaming, like sitting back in her seat and disappearing on the spot, but she stays put and before she’s had the chance to fully process all she’s been told, she finds herself nodding.  

 

* * *

 

Merlin attempts to feed Lizzie a few more times, but it isn’t long before food is flying across the kitchen and his shirt and hair are in just as much of a state as Arthur.  
As another chunk of banana flies past his ear, he catches sight of the clock above the stove and winces. “I need to go into work! I’ve already missed most of my office hour!”

Arthur cringes. “The guest bathroom on the second floor is all yours.”

“Thanks. Can I borrow a shirt, too?”

Arthur nods and says, “I’ll leave one in the guest room.”

“Thanks. And Arthur?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing weird,” Merlin requests. “I have a lunch meeting.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him when he arrives at the restaurant Caelia had designated. It’s a small place left over from the 1920s that sits a couple of streets away from campus, and he’d expected to find Caelia sitting with an elderly colleague.

He certainly hadn’t expected to come face to face with Morgana barely twelve full hours after they’d parted from each other’s company.

He knew Caelia had been her supervisor, but the possibility of her asking Morgana to present with him when Morgana had disappeared from the academic world hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He knows now that it ought to have. Morgana was brilliant at what she did, standing apart from all of the graduate students in her department. It only made sense for her to be asked to collaborate with him, academic absence or not.

Taking a deep breath, he wills his anger from the early morning to leave him and approaches the table, unwilling to let this opportunity slip from his fingers.

 

* * *

 

The first few minutes of lunch go surprisingly smoothly. Caelia repeats her plans for the conference and voices suggestions, highlighting the ways they would complement each other’s work. They both listen, but Morgana finds Merlin’s eyes fixed on hers rather than Caelia’s every time she turns in his direction.

The hurt that had laced his gaze the night before is still there, but there’s an added sharpness in his eyes, a not-quite hardness that she finds shooting through her.

Morgana diverts her gaze and settles on Merlin’s exceptionally messy hair and then wrinkles her nose. “Merlin, is there something yellow in your hair?”

All seriousness forgotten, Merlin’s eyes widen and his hand flies to the top of his head. He thought he’d gotten it all. “I, um,” he begins, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I was helping Arthur with Lizzie.”

Morgana holds back a smile. “And that involved putting fruit in your hair?”

“You know how she gets with food?”

Morgana nods. “Yeah, she loves it.”

“She loves throwing it.”

“She’s never done that with me. She’s an angel, Merlin.”

“Maybe to you and Gwen, but she was _not_ an angel this morning.”

Caelia amusedly looks between them. “So you two have mutual friends?”

“You could say that. His best friends are my brother and sister-in-law.”

“We used to be engaged,” Merlin adds, raising an eyebrow at Morgana.

Caelia’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Will this arrangement be too awkward?”

Morgana turns back to Merlin. She knows she can handle it, but she doesn’t want to push her way further into Merlin’s life if he doesn’t want her to. She holds her breath until Merlin shakes his head and says, “It won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent. I think your topics combine very well together. I look forward to what you come up with.”

Morgana looks down, smiling at her plate. “Thank you for thinking of me for this.”

Caelia smiles. “The field has missed you. I hope this is only the beginning of our working together again.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for all of your comments, and a special thank you to Lyre_Boleyne for reading through and helping me with one of these scenes...

“Do you want to go for coffee somewhere?” Merlin suggests after lunch. Caelia had run off to another lecture before they’d been able to order coffee, and they were left alone.

Merlin feels stupidly nervous for asking, but then Morgana agrees.

For all the tension between them, their conversation over lunch had run smoothly. She wasn’t ready to part ways just yet, and she was heading straight for a caffeine crash. Just as she says yes, she remembers his new aversion for coffee and cocks her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t drink coffee anymore?”

Merlin shrugs, a small smile gracing one side of his face. “It reminded me too much of you. With you though, I would.”

He looks into her eyes as he speaks, and Morgana feels the heat rushing to her cheeks. “Alright, then.”

 

* * *

 

They make their way back to the coffee shop they’d visited with Galahad and Gwen the other day, tension filling more and more of the air between them as they remember the awkwardness of their earlier encounter. They find a free table in a corner near the back of the shop, and Merlin goes to order their drinks.

He feels his heart beating in his ears as he comes back to the table and remembers he hadn’t even asked her what she wanted, and Morgana has difficulty breathing as he places the tray down on the table.

“I got you a triple shot mochaccino. I can go and get something else if you don’t –”

“It’s perfect, Merlin. Thank you,” she interrupts, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I haven’t changed my ways.”

Merlin smiles looking down at his cappuccino. “I’m glad some things are still the same.”

“What happened to Gaius’s? I walked by a couple of months ago, and it had been turned into a restaurant.”

“Business went down after it lost your patronage.”

Morgana’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I –”

Merlin chuckles. “I’m joking, Morgana. You were our main customer, but it still stayed afloat without you. But Gaius decided to move to Dublin and be close to Mum. He wanted company, and she needed help with the shop, so it worked out for the best.”

“How are they?”

Morgana looks uneasy as she asks, and Merlin gives her a small smile. He knows she’s trying, understands that she’d never wanted to hurt them, even if she’d been angry at Gaius. “They’re both fine. Gaius recovered from his heart attack. He just needs to minimize his stress and Mum’s doing okay.”

“I’m glad, then.”

“I do understand, Morgana. I don’t want you to think I’m still angry at what you did because of Uther.”

Morgana exhales.

“There is something I still don’t understand, though,” Merlin adds.

“Go ahead.”

“Why didn’t you come back sooner? If Morgause released all of that and if she was punished for it. If your agreement with her was over… Why wouldn’t you come back?” He doesn’t say “to me,” but the beseeching tone of his voice implies it, and he adds, “At least to Monmouth? You were so set on doing a doctorate back in the day.”

Morgana shakes her head, swallowing thickly. “I was scared, Merlin. I thought Morgause would come back somehow. Elaine let her go from The Grail and kept all the documents she’d amassed on Arthur and you and Gwen, but what if she’d made copies? You can’t easily silence someone like her. She could still do something, even now.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No. Galahad said he tracked her down once, but we lost track of her after that.”

Merlin nods once. “Did you give her anything more to work with?”

“No! I didn’t need to give her anything. She managed to find plenty on her own.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“She has plenty on your father.”

Merlin looks away, his lips set. He understands the things his father had done, the lengths he’d gone to, but he doesn’t want his actions to follow him. He reminds himself that it isn’t Morgana’s fault and moves to cover her hand with his on top of the table. “Even if she comes back one day, even if she releases anything new, you won’t be alone.”

Tears rush back to Morgana’s eyes, blurring her vision. She doesn’t want to cry, but the guilt still weighs heavily upon her, dragging her down. “It’d still be my fault.”

Merlin’s response is immediate. “No.” He flips her hand over and squeezes. “You are not to blame for any of this.”

Morgana squeezes back but then lets go and brings her hands together on her lap. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“You did what you thought was right, Morgana. Did you expressly do _any_ of it to hurt us?”

“No! I thought I was doing the right thing. I had to bring Uther to justice, and I thought it was the only way to do so _and_ protect you.”

“You see?”

“The thing is I don’t regret it though, Merlin. I’m sorry things went badly and it wrecked everything, and _that_ I regret, but I’m not sorry it brought Uther to justice.”

“Of all the things Morgana, I can understand that.

“Thank you. And really, my life isn’t in a bad place now. I have some wonderful people in my life, and I do important work taking down others like Uther and I won’t give that up. Still though, I regret Morgause and everything that happened because of her. I should have seen it coming.”

“And I should have done a better job of being there for you! I never should have made you feel like you had to face all of this alone.”

Morgana shakes her head. “You were amazing, Merlin. You couldn’t have done anything better.”

“If you were pregnant and you felt you couldn’t come to me, then I could have.” His voice is firm, and he hopes that it carries all of his conviction with it.

“No. You couldn’t have. You didn’t deserve what happened, Merlin.”

“What on earth are you talking about?!”

“You saw what my parents were like. Everything was a mess, Merlin. You didn’t deserve that, and you don’t now. I’ll tell Caelia it’s a bad idea for me to work on the conference.”

The anger he thought had left him returns. That she’d kept those feelings inside for all that time. That she honestly believed that she hadn’t been the greatest source of happiness he’d ever known. “You can’t still believe that, Morgana.”

Morgana frowns. “That you deserve the best? Of course I do.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “That you weren’t the greatest source of happiness in my life.” The sentiment slips out before he can stop himself, and he turns away, not wanting her to think he’s anywhere near ready to make an advance.

Morgana’s breath hitches. “How?”

Merlin huffs and “I loved you, Morgana, with every fibre of my being and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for you, but if you want us to move forward, with the presentation, with being friends again _,_ I need you to stop blaming yourself. Stop hating yourself. I know it’s been five years and god knows we’ve both changed, but if I’m going to give you another chance, in any capacity, I need you to do the same.”

Morgana shakes her head. “I can’t do this to you.” She’d been so certain that she was ready to face spending time with him again, but the intensity of her feelings scares her and she doesn’t want to hurt him again, even if they don’t stand a chance of being anything more than friends.

“Well I can’t do this if you don’t.”

“Are you honestly suggesting that you aren’t angry about all of this? You must hate me.”

“I’m angry. Of course I’m angry. I’m angry that you left. I’m angry that you didn’t tell me what you were going to do. Before or after you went to Morgause. I’m angry that you gave up on us so easily, and I’m furious that you didn’t think that you could come to me about any of it or even tell me that you were pregnant. I _deserved_ to know.”

“You see!”

“But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to forgive you. I’m angry with what happened and with what you did and didn’t do and I’m angry with myself, but I certainly don’t hate you. I never hated you, Morgana. I could never _hate_ you.”

“What are we going to do? Do you want me to go to Caelia and ask her to find someone else for you to work with?”

“No." Merlin says, running his hand through his hair. "I don't want to give up."

"So we work through this?"

"We work through it, and we give the best talk at the conference."

 

* * *

 

Standing in front of her mirror, Morgana surveys her image. Her hair is loosely curled, and she’s wearing a sculpted black dress, fitted through the bodice but lightly flaring out from her hips. The day still weighs heavily upon her, sending whirls of excitement and nerves running through her, but it’s the night of her monthly, Thursday night dinner with Elaine and Galahad, and she wants to look nice, to look composed and in control. She reapplies a coat of blood red lipstick, and happy with the result, steps into the towering heels she’s selected and grabs her purse.

 

* * *

 

“So, Morgana, how are things at Monmouth?”

“It’s only been two days since we talked, Elaine.”

Elaine gives her a knowing look. “You look much calmer than you were.”

“I talked to Merlin. Gwen invited us both to dinner last night.”

“And?”

“I told him everything.”

“Everything?”

Morgana nods.

“Oh, Darling,” Elaine says, her voice dipping. She reaches across the table and grasps Morgana’s hand. Elaine is rarely one to show affection in any way, and Morgana can’t help but notice the look Galahad is giving them.

“What do you mean by _everything_?”

Morgana sighs. Everyone but Galahad knows at this point, and she sees no need to keep him in the dark. Taking a deep breath, she says, “I miscarried Merlin’s baby.”

“And you never told him?”

Morgana purses her lips together and shakes her head. “He never even knew I was pregnant. Until yesterday.”

“Shit.”

“Galahad!” Elaine exclaims just as a piqued old lady glares at their table and then purses her mouth at Galahad’s white, ironed t-shirt.  

“I’m sorry, but that’s… wow.”

Elaine rolls her eyes to the ceiling at her son’s eloquence and asks, “How did he take it?”

“As well as could be expected.”

Elaine narrows her eyes at Morgana. “He isn’t angry with you, is he?”

“He’s angry, but not at me.”

“Because I don’t care how good or kind he is. If he messes with you, I will personally see to it –”

“I promise, Elaine,” Morgana assures her, smiling at her protectiveness. “In fact, we’re going to work together.”

“Oh?” Elaine asks, giving Morgana a contemplative look after taking a sip of her martini.

Morgana explains about the conference and Caelia and the talk, and Elaine looks increasingly pleased with the situation, so much so that, finished with her story, Morgana quickly asks, “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Of course. In fact,” Elaine begins, beaming at her son, “I have some questions for Lad.”

“Oh, for the love of God! Mother, I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ooooh, is this about his new lady?” Morgana asks, sitting forward in her chair. “He wouldn’t tell me anything worthwhile on Tuesday.”

“Oh, it’s a woman!” Elaine exclaims.

“Yes, it’s a woman,” Galahad mumbles. “In fact!” he says, cheering up. “She seems to know Merlin. I invited her to see his lecture at the university yesterday, and when I went over to introduce her to him, she was already on friendly terms with him.”

“You willingly went to a lecture?” Elaine asks, narrowing her eyes at her son. “What was it about?”

“Dragons.”

Morgana smirks. “You have a sudden interest in dragons, then?”

“They’re fascinating creatures.”

“They’re green,” Morgana deadpans. “You hate green.”

“But I still like things that are green. Look at you! Just about everything you own is green, and I love _you_.”

“Awww,” Morgana says sarcastically. “I’m not wearing any green tonight.”

Galahad raises an eyebrow and gestures at the giant emerald ring on her middle finger and the matching, dangling earrings.

“Fair enough. Tell us more!”

“Well, Merlin’s a surprisingly good lecturer. Considering how… disconnected he was the other day at the coffee shop, I thought he might be one of those spacey intellectual types. You know the ones who are always stuck in their own heads but aren’t much socially?”

Morgana narrows her eyes at Galahad but doesn’t say anything.

“He wasn’t though! He’s very engaging and surprisingly talkative.”

“Well I suppose he had reason to be distracted at the coffee shop,” Elaine offers, smirking as she watches the two of them.

“I thought we weren’t going to discuss Merlin anymore?” Morgana quips.

“Well I don’t want to discuss Viviane.”

“ _Viviane_?!!” Morgana exclaims. “You’re dating Merlin’s Viviane?!”

“What do you mean _Merlin’s Viviane_?! And we aren’t dating!”

“No, obviously not! I heard Merlin speaking to her on the phone the other day. _Flirting.”_

“Are you sure?” Galahad asks, his eyes darkening. Morgana notices him balling the napkin in his lap and regrets speaking up.

“I think so.”

“Didn’t Gwen say Merlin was single?” Elaine offers.

“She may not know everything,” Morgana answers, feeling the blood leaving her head.

“They could just be friends,” Galahad says defensively. “Viviane said they’d been friends for over a decade.” He dejectedly adds, “Though she did wink at him.”

Morgana feels herself shrinking in her chair.

“Oh for the love of God!” Elaine interjects, mimicking her son. “You’re both being ridiculous. For all you know, Merlin and Viviane are friends, just as you two are friends. Do you think there’s anything suspicious about the two of you?”

“We’re like siblings!” Galahad objects, with a face of disgust.

“Precisely! Did you stop to think that maybe there’s nothing more between Merlin and Viviane? You’re all adults, and the last time I checked, men and women were perfectly capable of maintaining a platonic relationship.”

“But —” Morgana begins.

“No, no.” Elaine interrupts and, catching the eye of a waiter, gives a half nod. “I need another martini if I’m going to listen to any more of this.”

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay in updating. I freaked out over some characterization things and consequently went back through the entire fic to revise a few details. I'm happier with the state of the fic now, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

“Okay, so how do we approach this?” Morgana asks, tapping her fountain pen on the notebook in front of her. Startled awake by yet another nightmare, she’d spent plenty of time thinking about how best to approach the topic of their presentation with Merlin while she’d lingered over a very early breakfast, and she has her fair share of ideas. Still, she wants to give him a chance to voice his opinions before stepping in and taking over.

If there was one thing she’d often been accused of doing wrongly in her academic past, it was taking over and stifling her collaborators. Granted, in the past, they’d all been idiots and she’d been justified in doing so… But now, for once that she’s paired with an equal – even if her lack of doctorate says otherwise, she wants to give Merlin a chance.

“Well we have two months until the conference.”

“We do,” Morgana confirms, smirking.

Merlin takes in Morgana’s expression and struggles not to smile back. She seems perfectly at home, at ease in his office, and he sees the emerald green leather of her laptop case sticking out of her woven, leather bag.

Caving into his smile, he leans back in his chair. “You have this all planned out, don’t you?”

Morgana feigns an innocent expression, and Merlin nods and adds, “If I know you at all, you already have a schedule and a proposal drawn up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Morgana…”

She beams and reaches into her bag, pulling out her laptop case. “Alright, fine. I have a slideshow with all of the details.”

Merlin crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow as his mouth twitches. “I knew it.”

“I wanted to see what you came up with first. Who was working on this with you before Caelia turned to me?”

“Ella Jenkins. She was visiting from Cambridge.”

“And?”

“We didn’t get along.”

“Caelia said she dropped out, not that you drove her away.”

“She had unethical research methodology.”

“Ah. So you didn’t get much done.”

“Nothing. We had to ditch everything.” 

“So you have no ideas.”

Merlin smirks. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then go ahead.”

Merlin raises his eyebrow. “Don’t you want to show me your slideshow?”

“You already know my approach is better, then.” Morgana smirks.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting.”

“Just tell her your plan, Merlin!” Ben exclaims, standing up from the desk across the room. “I’m going to the library until your meeting is over.”

Morgana turns in her seat towards Merlin’s officemate and shoots him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin adds. “We should be done within the hour.”

Ben raises both eyebrows at them. “Somehow, I highly doubt that.”

 

* * *

Conversation flows with increasing ease as the afternoon elapses before them. They go through their respective ideas for the panel. They split up the labour and share reading lists and do far more planning than either usually would for an hour-long talk. Ben returns to pick up his things and leave for the weekend, long past the hour he’d designated. He gives them knowing looks and departs without a word, and still the two sit and talk, pretending to stick to the topic that’s brought them back together but truly looking for excuses to catch up without letting go of their anger or their hurt.  


* * *

They finally stray and move on to talking about the ways their lives had changed over the past five years. Morgana starts telling Merlin about her work and is mid-anecdote about a time Galahad had gotten them into a sticky situation by losing the code to a building they were trying to get into and deciding to compensate by flirting with the guard when Merlin suddenly, and very quietly, asks, “What made you come back, Morgana?”

The smile drops from Morgana’s face as she takes in the change in his expression. The laughter that had rung through the room moments earlier is gone, and Merlin looks somehow sad, as if he doesn’t quite believe why she’s here.

“To Monmouth? Elaine sent me,” she says, frowning. Surely she’d told him that much.

“Why? What does a university have to do with a paper? Let alone a Medievalist institute?”

Morgana hesitates. She isn’t supposed to talk about her missions, but she doesn’t want to lie to Merlin, and after her fruitless meeting with Nimueh that morning, she’s beginning to think that this mission isn’t as authentic as Elaine would like her to believe.

“Elaine asked me to look into Dr Nimueh. Apparently she’s getting ready to make some scandalous announcement that promises to impact society as a whole, and I’m supposed to find out what it is.”

“To stop it?”  
“No. That isn’t what I do. We don’t play at God.”

Merlin huffs, looking down at his lap as he leans back in his chair. He raises his eyebrows and looks back up at her, eyes scrutinizingly lingering on hers. “Well. I don’t know if I can be of much help, but I’ve noticed something odd about Nimueh. I may be able to figure out what she’s working on. Though,” he trails off, grinning. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out before I do.”

“At this rate, I’m not so sure.”

Merlin cocks his head at her, but then sobers up. “Still, that isn’t quite what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“What prompted you to come back to _this_? To academia.”

“I missed this. I love my job, but I needed something more, for me. Just for me. What I do… I get a thrill out of my work, and it’s reassuring to know that some of what I do has an impact. That fewer people can be victimized by corrupt business men, and that fewer politicians and bankers and men in power can abuse their offices and take advantage of people. I love it, and I don’t intend to stop. But I also missed this. Investigating gives me a thrill, but the joy I find in learning, in research, and even in writing is something else. Coming back this week reminded me of how much I love it, and how much I pretended that I couldn’t live without it. I can’t, and so I’m back.”

Merlin’s expression softens as she speaks, and he smiles when she finishes. “I can understand that. I’ve never seen anyone as driven as you are.”

“I’m glad Caelia has us working together,” she says with determination, “and I’m glad you didn’t back out when she suggested we collaborate.”

“Well,” Merlin begins, eyes sparkling as he speaks, “I thought it would be silly to ignore the chance.”

Smiling, Morgana looks down, feeling for the first time since she’d decided to speak to Merlin and open up that things might begin to go the way she’d hardly dared to hope they would. Filled with newly found confidence, she decides to ask the question that’s been pressing on her mind.

“Gwen told me you wrote part of your doctorate on the Aithusa myth.”

Merlin nods, blood rushing to his cheeks. “I, um. I couldn’t shake the myth after all that happened, so I started digging into all similar stories, and well, I ended up writing the whole thing on the politicized stand-in of dragons in medieval myths as influential allegories. I used Aithusa in the section on positive influences.”

Morgana nods. She’d read as much on his online profile after talking to Gwen, but she wanted to hear more. “I’d love to read it.”

“They’ll have it in the library soon, but I can send you a copy. In fact,” he pauses, his ears growing far redder than his face, “there’s talk of turning it into a book.”

“Merlin! That’s wonderful!”

“Thank you,” he looks down, not used to praise.

They go silent for a couple of moments before Merlin meets her eye and quietly asks, “Do you still have Aithusa?”

“Of course I do.”

“How is he?”

“I still think he’s as adorable. I’m lucky to have him.”

“Still as loyal as ever?”

Morgana nods. “He lives up to his namesake. He can’t stand _anyone_ else, though. Remember how sweet he was with you? He hisses at everyone now. Arthur’s terrified of him.”

Merlin chuckles. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. Arthur doesn’t even want to meet Kilgharrah.”

“Kilgharrah?”

“I adopted a cat, too. Or rather, he adopted me. He showed up at my flat one day, and he hasn’t left.”

“What’s he like?”

“Fat, grey, bossy. All he does is eat and give me grumpy looks.”  

Morgana nods, laughing. “Does he have a dragon for a namesake, too?”

“One of the manipulative bastards I wrote about. In his myth, Kilgharrah’s an old, scaly dragon who twists a warlock around his finger and crushes the fate of an entire kingdom out of vengeance.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow. “Perfect for a pet.”

Merlin shrugs. “He’s good to have around. It’s nice to have a living creature in the flat.”

Morgana’s tempted to ask if he has anyone else, if things have changed with Viviane, but she resists, not wanting to risk the awkwardness. Yet she finds herself talking before she can help it. “You should come see Aithusa sometime.”

Merlin nods. “I’d like that.”

Morgana looks out the window at the darkening sky. “Do you want to come now? We’ve been here most of the afternoon and it’s getting late. I can give you the book I mentioned, too.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin asks, swallowing thickly.

Morgana gives him a half sided smile, and eyes lighting up as he takes in the ease with which she confirms her request, Merlin agrees.

 

* * *

 

They walk to Morgana’s flat, Merlin rolling his bicycle along with them. For all the time that’s gone by, Morgana can’t help but note how good it feels to walk beside him again, even as ridiculous nerves flutter through her stomach, and unbeknownst to her, through Merlin’s as well. They fall into step, trading stories with increasing ease, and when Merlin follows her through the door and up the stairs of the old, Georgian building she now calls home, Morgana hopes that the awkwardness is behind them for good.

 

* * *

 

It isn’t.

They barely make it in the door before Aithusa is bounding down the corridor, meowing and announcing his presence. He ignores Morgana and makes straight for Merlin, meows growing louder and turning to purrs as Merlin crouches down to greet him.

“Hi, Aithusa.” He holds out his hand, and the cat brushes against his legs, nudging the offered hand with his head.

Merlin silently laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gives Aithusa his full attention.

Warmth rushes through Morgana as she watches them. That Aithusa hates everyone but her is well known to her and her circle of family and friends, and seeing that his love for Merlin is still as strong as the day they’d gone to adopt him reassures her. She gently puts down her woven leather tote on the wrought iron bench by the door and slips off her trench before hanging it on the hook above.

“Kilgharrah never greets me like this,” Merlin mutters, standing up with Aithusa in his arms. He scratches him behind the ears as he speaks, and Aithusa’s deep purrs echo through the tiny room.

“Well Aithusa rarely even greets me like that. I think he’s missed you.”

“Well I’ve missed him, too,” Merlin says, keeping his eyes trained on Morgana’s. His voice is steady, assertive, and he adds, “Very much.”

Morgana’s mouth twitches and curls into a smile. A wave of happy calm washes through her as Merlin returns her smile and she reaches out to briefly but firmly squeeze the arm he has wrapped around Aithusa.

“Why don’t I show you around? This isn’t much compared to the penthouse, but it feels more like home.”

“It suits you,” Merlin states, moments after they make it into the small living/dining area. Wrought iron and glass bookshelves line the walls and the room is decked out in emerald green accents. Merlin smiles as he takes it in, feeling Morgana’s presence in every detail. “It looks far more like you.”  
“Thank you. Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Just some water, please.”

Morgana nods. “I’ll be right back, then. Make yourself at home.”

The doorbell rings almost as soon as Morgana steps into the kitchen. Sighing, she puts down the glass she’d picked up and makes her way back down the corridor.

Peeping through the door, she sees Galahad standing outside, shopping bag in hand.

“Lad! What are you doing here?” she asks, immediately opening the door.

“I called you _and_ texted you. About a half dozen times.” He holds up a bottle of wine and a bag full of what definitely smells like takeaway. “I thought we could catch up.”

“I’ve been busy. I didn’t notice, and we saw each other last night, Lad!”

Galahad tries to feign a look of innocence but then sighs. “I need your advice.”

“About Viviane?”

Colour rushes to Galahad’s cheeks and Morgana grins.

“Maybe?”

“Alright, come in, but mind you I’m not alone.”

Galahad frowns. “You never have anyone over. _No!”_

 _“_ Not like that!”

Still carrying the wine and the food, Galahad marches straight into her living room. “Merlin!

Morgana rolls her eyes and follows him. Merlin is standing in front of the sofa, Aithusa still in his arms, and Galahad is gaping at him.

“Something wrong, Lad?”

“He’s _holding_ Aithusa.”

“And?"

“And Aithusa’s snuggled up to him! Purring! I can hear him _purring_ from here, Morgana.”

Morgana crosses her arms, and lips curling upwards, turns to Merlin who’s coolly but amusedly watching Galahad.  
“Aithusa _likes_ Merlin.”

“Aithusa doesn’t like _anyone,_ Morgana.”

“That’s obviously not true.”

Galahad silently laughs and then takes a few steps towards Merlin and Aithusa. Aithusa affectionately nudges Merlin and then turns around, hissing as Galahad approaches.

“You see! He doesn’t even want me anywhere near him!”

Morgana smirks and teasingly replies, “Far be it that someone dares not to like you.”

Galahad frowns. “ _Everybody_ likes me.”

“Maybe it’s because you got upset with him the first time you met him.”

“He tore my favourite shirt with his claws!”

“Galahad! Almost all of your shirts are identical. Every shirt you own is your favourite shirt.”

“It is a _nice shirt._ ”

Merlin scratches Aithusa behind the ears, secretly pleased. “He’s never torn any of my clothes.”

“Or mine,” Morgana adds.

“That’s because he likes both of you. It’s a sign.”

Morgana rolls her eyes at Galahad. “Merlin and I adopted him together.”

“Yeah, but he was always partial to you, even then. Remember how he would let the other kittens near you?”

“I do.” Morgana smiles and steps closer to pet Aithusa. He begins to purr more loudly at her approach, and she leans down to kiss him on top of the head.

Merlin catches a whiff of her perfume as she does so, and he struggles to remain perfectly still as her lips linger, centimetres from his fingers. She stays near after she stands, and he gives into his smile after he catches her looking his way.

“This is disgusting,” Galahad interrupts. “He’s a monster with everybody else.”

“Well, he’s my monster, Lad.”

Merlin gently puts Aithusa down, but the cat sticks next to him, weaving in and out around his feet.

“Should I go?” Merlin asks. He knows now that there is and never has been anything between Morgana and Galahad, but he feels like he’s intruding nonetheless. “I don’t want to get in the way of your plans.”

“We didn’t _have_ plans, and no, you should stay if you want to. Galahad just wanted my advice, and I think you might even be able to help him.”

“Morgana!” Galahad objects.

“Well I don’t think anyone knows Viviane as well as Merlin does. You might benefit from asking him, too.”

“Viviane?!” Merlin asks, smirking and sitting down on the sofa. “So this is why you were at my lecture yesterday. I did think it was a bit odd.”

“It was a public lecture! And besides,” Galahad adds, “I like dragons.”

Morgana snorts. “Since when?”

“Since forever,” Galahad says defiantly. “Merlin gave a very interesting talk.” He turns to Merlin and adds, “Your slideshow was very compelling.”

“You’re just saying that because Viviane said she suggested it,” Merlin teases.

“I am not.”

“Awww you made a slideshow!” Morgana interrupts. “I want to see it.”

“It wasn’t that good.”

“Please?! We can hook it up to the television while we eat!”

“Fine,” Merlin agrees, blushing as he walks back to get his laptop from his bag in the entryway.

Galahad beams at Morgana as he grabs three wine glasses from off Morgana’s bar car.

“Not one word,” Morgana warns, raising one threatening eyebrow.

“A word about what?” Galahad asks and fails to hold back a smirk.

Morgana picks up a cushion and swats him with it before following Merlin out of the room.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't really explicit, but I'm changing the rating to be safe. My beta was pretty insistent that this no longer passes as "teen"...

She spends most of the day in the library, trying to anonymously, remotely, and tracelessly hack into Dr Nimueh’s files. After many frustrated attempts, she manages and the exhilaration of her success carries her through the rest of the day. She copies over several files and decides to spend the evening properly kicking off her investigation at home, in her pyjamas.

She stops at the new coffee shop on her way home to pick up her evening dose, and she finally lets her mind drift to the previous evening. She replays all the exchanges between her and Merlin, pictures the way he’d slowly lost his edge and relaxed as the evening had gone on, trading jokes and anecdotes with Galahad and being far less guarded towards her.

The memories cheer her up far more than either her success of the day or the jolt of caffeine, and she wonders when she’ll be able to see Merlin again as she jogs up the stairs towards her flat.

What she doesn’t expect is to find Merlin sitting beside her doorstep. He’s all scruff and smiles, looking up from an incredibly heavy looking book as she approaches. He looks every bit the young professor, ridiculously adorable in his faded red jumper and thin, brown corduroys. His hair is sticking up in every direction and Morgana immediately finds herself wishing she could bury her hands in it and drag him nearer to her to make sure he’s real and she hasn’t just conjured up his image with her thoughts.

She swallows, ordering herself to keep calm and keep out all thoughts that involve her running her hands through Merlin’s hair. She wills her voice to stay steady as she greets him.  

“Merlin! What are you doing here?”

He beams and sticks his book back into the supple, worn satchel he’s dragged around for years before jumping up. He’s cheerful, but Morgana knows that the extra jitteriness in his movements is compensating for his nerves, and the knowledge sends a swarm of butterflies fluttering through her.

“I thought I’d bring over food and we could… talk.” He pauses, looking a little less sure of himself. “I had a nice time last night.”

The corners of Morgana’s mouth twist upwards, and her smile takes over. “I did, too.”

She unlocks her door and welcomes him in, heart racing.

 

* * *

 

“Oooh, sushi! I was craving sushi.” Morgana beams.

Merlin watches as she gleefully unloads the shopping bag he’d carried into the kitchen. Her eyes light up, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen since he doesn’t even know when. Warmth spreads through his chest at the sight and melts away another chunk of his anger. He doesn’t want her to stop smiling and thinks it best to clarify before she has a chance to be disappointed.

“Actually, it’s vegan sushi.”

Morgana’s smile drops for a second, but then she’s laughing her wonderful, throaty laugh and he finds himself joining her.

“Only you, Merlin.”

“It’s very good!”

“I’m sure it is.” She meets his eye and looks almost as if she’s struggling with whether or not she should speak. She does. “I know Gwen thinks your… lifestyle change is ridiculous, but I don’t think it is.”

Merlin cringes. He’d taken Gwen to the same juice bar he’d been to with Viviane earlier that day, and Gwen’s laughter at the harmonized water fountain had gotten through to him.

“You should see where I took Gwen this morning.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow. “Where did you take her?”

He explains. By the time he tells her the juice bar purifies their water with classical music, she has tears running down her cheeks from laughing so hard and he doesn’t even care that he sounds ridiculous.

“You need to take me there.”

“Do you mean it?”

“You can’t tell me they put headphones on their water fountain and expect me not to want to see it, Merlin. Please, can we go? Or at least tell me where it is? I could drag Galahad there and tell him I’ve found a place for Viviane.”

Merlin chuckles at the sudden mischief in her eyes. “Trust me when I say Viviane does _not_ like it there.”

Morgana’s grin grows, and she suggests, “Why don’t the three of us go then? You like Galahad, right?”

“I do.” And he does. Now that he knows he’s just Morgana’s friend. “We could go tomorrow?”

Morgana nods and smilingly leads the way out of the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

The vegan sushi is surprisingly good. Morgana spends more time watching Merlin than concentrating on her food, but she’s pleasantly surprised by every bite she takes.

They eat on the floor before her coffee table, and when Aithusa crawls over to curl up in Merlin’s lap, she’s reminded of the night they’d spent playing with the kitten on the floor.

“Do you remember the day we got him?”

Merlin leans back against the sofa, watching Morgana as she gives in to a soft smile. He wants to reach out and touch her, to gently take the chopsticks out of her hands and push back the wavy strand of black hair that’s fallen into her face. The years make his hands itch, and he wonders what it would be like to reclaim her lips, to reclaim _her_. He wants to pepper her with kisses and press his lips to every one of her pulse points to remind himself that she’s alive and that she’s here and that they’ve been given another chance to make things right.

“How could I forget?” he answers, voice more gravelly than he wants it to be. “I still have the pictures we took, you know.”

Morgana stills and puts down her chopsticks, turning to face him. “So do I.”

They both go quiet, trading glances that fill the air between them with more and more tension. Morgana takes in the way his hair is somehow even more mussed than when he arrived, and when he reaches up to run his hands through it, she wants to reach out and knot her fingers through his. She _needs_ to close the distance between them and shut out the past and the pain.

She lifts her hand, fingers begging her to act, but she drops it when, annoyed with suddenly being ignored, Aithusa meows, jumps off of Merlin’s lap and prances out of the room.

Shaking her head, she laughs silently. “He’s ridiculous.”

Merlin barely seems aware of Aithusa’s departure, and he speaks moments after her, voice deeper and far more uneasy than before, “Morgana, there’s something else I need to know.”

Morgana swallows, taking in the sudden frown that crosses his features. “Go ahead.”

“If you hadn’t had the miscarriage...” Merlin begins but then trails off, thinking better of his words. He doesn’t know why he’s asking this now when all he wants is to pull her to him and forget it all, but he needs to know and, suddenly, he doesn’t want to wait, doesn’t think he can bury himself in her until he knows. “ _Before_ you had the miscarriage,” he continues before he loses his nerve, “were you planning on keeping the baby?”

The words crash into her and Morgana watches him as he speaks, watches him fiddle with a loose thread on his jeans before turning his eyes back to hers, wide, beseeching.

She struggles to keep her voice steady, but the words come with surprising ease. “Yes, I was.”

“Without me?”

“I was going to tell you, Merlin. But…” She pauses. “With or without you, I would have kept the baby, yes.”

“Why?”

She breathes out a huff of disbelief. “What do you mean _why_?!!”

Merlin shakes his head and looks so sad as he runs his fingers over the swirly green pattern on her carpet that it takes everything Morgana has not to reach out and touch him.

“Those months after you left… They were the hardest of my life. I missed you every single moment. I saw you everywhere, in everything. I missed you _so much_ , Morgana. It felt like a chunk of my soul had been torn away and left exposed. I –”

“I know,” she whispers. “Do you think it was any easier for me, Merlin?! I lost everything, and then I lost the baby and every bit of hope that was left. I didn’t even have the comfort of knowing I’d succeeded in having Uther put away until months afterwards. ”

“I’m sorry.”

Morgana shakes her head. “That isn’t the point.”

“It just kills me that it could have gone so differently.”

“If only I’d spoken up?” There’s an edge to her voice, and she feels the anger bubbling up inside of her. _Not now._ Not like this.

He shakes his head, and his voice comes out softer, more upset with himself. “If only I’d been less stubborn.”

Morgana sighs and she inches her hand closer, lightly laying her fingers on top of his and squeezing. “There are so many ‘if only’s, Merlin. We can’t do anything about them, now.”

Merlin sadly smiles and flips his hand over, intertwining their fingers, and Morgana feels as if her heart is going to jump out of her throat. She brushes her thumb along the back of his hand, drawing his eyes back to hers.

Sadness fills his gaze, but for the first time since they’ve been reunited, Morgana spots traces of something that sends a new wave of desire washing through her. For all the time that’s gone by, she can read his looks more easily than her favourite book, and she knows the way he’s watching her, knows the way his eyes begin to cross as he moves his gaze from her eyes to her lips.

Her heart pounds in her chest and she rises to her knees, moving closer until she’s hovering just beside him. She moves her free hand up to cup his cheek, brushing her fingers along his jawline, shivering as they catch on his stubble. His eyes move back to hers then, and at the darkness of his gaze, she smiles and dips her head towards his.

Their lips are millimetres apart and their breath mingles as she pauses for a millisecond. It isn’t that she hesitates, but she wants to savour the feelings of hope and desire and overwhelming love that course through her.

But then Merlin nudges her nose with his and whispers her name and she brings her lips crashing down to his.

For all the desperation running through their veins, the kiss starts off as soft and gentle and painfully, exquisitely slow. They trace each other’s lips, savouring every movement, every point of contact as they reacquaint themselves with each other.

It feels, Morgana thinks as she moves her hand from Merlin’s and into his hair, just like coming home. Tears prickle behind her closed eyes at the soft, warm relief from years of subconscious pining and she knots her fingers through his soft, unruly locks to pull him closer.

She decides then that the chaste, reverent kiss is no longer enough. She needs to be closer to him, needs _him._ Running her tongue over his ridiculously soft lips, she coaxes his mouth open just as he pulls her down onto his lap and deepens the kiss.

He moves his hands as they shift into this new position, gripping her waist with one and the back of her neck with the other. He feels every forgotten, repressed desire come back to the surface as they sink into one another. She brushes her tongue against his, sending pleasure coursing through him and causing him to moan into her mouth.     

She smiles against his lips at that, and they break apart, touching foreheads as they catch their breath. Morgana keeps her eyes closed, and as he watches her red, swollen lips continue to curl upwards, Merlin decides that he doesn’t care as much about breathing as he had previously thought.

He leans forward and, after planting another determined kiss on her lips, he trails his way down her neck until he finds the pulse point at the base of her throat and sucks, feeling the way her heart wildly beats against him. She leans her head back to give him greater access as he pulls aside the collar of her dark grey jumper, and he feels arousal shooting through him as he draws a moan from deep inside her throat.

He smiles against her skin and moves to kiss her again, running his thumb over her swollen lips before taking them in between his. She lets him and responds, battling between the desire to keep kissing him and the need to shed her now stifling jumper. She runs her hand down his cheek and as she comes in contact with the heated skin of his neck, the need to feel as much skin on skin wins out and she pushes him away.

He attempts to chase her lips as she leans back, but understanding seeps into his dazed expression as she reaches for the hem of her jumper and tugs. The garment comes off in one smooth movement to reveal a deep green bra made entire of lace that contrasts the pallor of her skin. He moves to encircle her now bare waist with his hands, but she tuts and stills his movements by wrapping her hands around his wrists.

“You, too,” she breathes into his ear and reaches to remove his scratchy jumper. She tugs on both jumper and vest and smiles as they come off to reveal a far more muscled chest than she remembers. Placing both hands on his well-defined shoulders to steady herself, she feels her breathing growing more and more laboured as she leans in to kiss him again. His mouth immediately opens to hers, and their soft, slow kisses are forgotten as desire takes over and drives their actions.

She runs her hands over his shoulders as they kiss and traces her way down his chest and his back, both pushing and pulling him closer, revelling in the feel of skin against skin. Merlin nips at her bottom lip and smiling into her lips, shifts them to lay Morgana down on the carpet. He sinks down over her and deepens the kiss as Morgana digs her nails into his back and feels every last drop of rational thought leave her.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things! 1) Things are not winding down. We're about a third of the way through what I have plotted!, 2) This does not mean I'm back to updating every other day., 3) The whole vegan Merlin thing is an inside joke-ish thing between Lyre_Boleyne and myself that keeps getting out of hand, and it's really affectionately meant. So hopefully it comes off that way? 
> 
> Anyway, I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you like it! :D

Persistent whimpers break through Merlin’s consciousness, dispelling pleasant dreams of kisses and readings, and he wakes to a sharp pain in ribs. His eyes blink open, and he takes in his surroundings as the events of the night before come rushing back to him.

Morgana is tucked into his side, her hair tickling his shoulder and her arm splayed across his chest. Her face is contorted into a frown, and he feels a warm drop against his bare skin as she whimpers and digs her nails into his ribcage.

Cringing at the pain, he reaches for her hand and pulls it away from his side. He intertwines her clenched fingers with his and squeezes before dropping a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

“Morgana,” he whispers, brushing hair out of her face with his free hand.

She doesn’t respond and, instead, groans as the tears come on faster.

The sound pierces his heart, and he feels the overwhelming need to shelter her from all future pain. He’d hoped against all hope that her nightmares had left her in their time apart, but the bags under her eyes from the night they’d spent at Arthur and Gwen’s come back to him and he sighs, holding her closer.

He strokes her hair, whispering words of love that he doesn’t feel ready to say come morning but knows he means with all of his heart in the night. He holds her other hand and brings her wrist to his mouth, brushing his lips against her pulse point and willing her to wake.

Minutes pass and finally – _finally_ , her whimpers begin to taper off and her eyelids flutter open as her lashes brush against his skin.

 

* * *

Merlin stands above Morgana, sword in hand, and she clutches at her stomach. She gasps in pain and desperately tries to writhe away and save herself. But then helping hands persistently make their way into her hair and comfort seethes into the burning, searing pain as she falls forwards onto her knees and opens her eyes.

She’s in her bed, far from the medieval wreckage she'd seen herself in, but the hands from her dream are still in her hair and she sits up to find Merlin looking back at her.

Concern drives the malevolence from his eyes, but she remembers the anguish she’d felt as he’d dug the sword into her and pulls away from him, releasing his hand and protectively holding the silken sheets to her bare chest.

He sits up against her quilted headboard. “It’s only me.”

She shakes her head and croaks, “No.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as hurt seeps into his gaze.

He reaches out to brush his fingers against her upper arm and she flinches and scoots away.

“Morgana.” The hurt she can’t see seeps into his voice, and she hears the question behind it.

“I dreamt... ” she begins and trails off. She swallows, her dry throat burning. “You tried to kill me. You stabbed me. More than once. And you just watched. Your eyes… In all these years, I’ve never seen anyone look that cold or that cruel.”

Tears burn against her eyelids, and she draws her knees up to her chest. She leans her head against them and begins to rock in place, willing the images to go away.

They don't.

She sees the ruined castle and her hands caked in mud as she helplessly writhes on the damp, dirt floor.

What she logically knows are only minutes go by, and Merlin tentatively places a hand on her back. His fingers are soft and warm and his touch tender and so different from that in her dream. She flinches but doesn’t move away.

“I would never…” he whispers, and she nods against her knees.

“I know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

She hears the hesitation in his voice, and she knows, logically, that this is the Merlin she knows, that the other is a horrible, horrible conjecture drawn by her worst fears.

She doesn't want him to leave. She wants the images to go away, wants to lose herself in his arms and let him drive her to oblivion.

“No.” Her voice comes out muffled from the covers, but Merlin moves his hand from her back to her shoulder and squeezes.

She feels her heart rate begin to slow, and when the burning in her throat gets to be too much, she lifts her head and begins to move towards the edge of the bed.

“I need water.”

Merlin scampers to get up. “I’ll get it for you.”

Morgana shakes her head. She knows the dream was just a dream, but the horrible memories of others float back to her and she needs to get her own drink and make sure she’s safe. “Stay. I’ll be right back.”

Merlin frowns. "Are you sure?"

“I am. I'll be right back. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

She takes her time in the kitchen. She slowly drinks a glass of water and goes through her breathing exercises, willing herself to stay calm. She stops in the tiny powder room off the entryway and splashes water on her face. The cold brings her back to her senses, and she pads back into her bedroom knowing exactly what she wants.

Merlin is sitting up in her bed and has her bedside lamp switched on as he leafs through the copy of _The Buried Giant_ she keeps on her night table. He’s transfixed on the book, frowning as if he too is trying to remember a distant past but doesn't know if it'll cause more pleasure or pain.

“Hey,” she whispers, nearing the bed.

He puts the book down and turns to her, eyes adorably wide. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry.”

Merlin shakes his head, reaching for her. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry about your dream. Are you feeling better?”

She shrugs and sits on his side of the bed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She gives him a close-mouthed smile and repositions herself so that she’s straddling his lap. She leans forward, bracing herself by grasping his shoulder with one hand and cupping the side of his face with the other, and whispers, “Make me forget.”

 

* * *

 

They spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, mouths and fingertips driving all possibilities of nightmares and dark thoughts away, and it’s well into the late morning when Morgana wakes not to pain but to Merlin trailing feather-light kisses down her abdomen.

She tangles her fingers into his extremely mussed hair and guides him back up to her, muttering her _good morning_ s against his lips.

Every bit of her pleasantly aches, and she toys with the idea of suggesting that they spend the rest of the day in bed. They haven’t discussed what this all means, but she wants to relish every moment, whether this is one, incredible fluke of a night or the beginning of something amazing.

She’s about to say so, but then Merlin pushes away from her after pressing an exceptionally fervent kiss to her lips and smiles. “I’m going to make us coffee.”

 And who is she to turn away the one thing keeping this moment from achieving perfection? She beams and rolls over, reaching for the raw silk dressing gown she’d shed after her midnight wanderings. “I’ll come with you.”

 

* * *

 

They eat breakfast cuddled together in the little nook in her kitchen, her legs thrown over his lap and their problems seemingly far away. Merlin savours every moment, and as she looks at him from over the rim of her oversized coffee cup, he thinks that he’s ready to forgive everything if it means they can pick up from here and move on.

He’s missed _this_ and her and everything they ever had together, and the love he feels for her after all this time terrifies him in its persistent strength. It hasn’t faded in the way he thought it had. It had simply buried itself in his subconscious, waiting for her return to come back to the surface. One week in her presence and one night in her arms and already he doesn’t know how he managed to live five years without her.

He reaches for her, then, and trails a row of kisses along her jaw before catching her lips in a coffee-flavoured kiss. He’s home, and he’ll be damned if he lets anything drag him away from it again.

 

* * *

 

Galahad calls as they’re laid out in bed, reading and intermittently discussing the latest books they’ve read.

She digs her phone out of her bag, where she’d left it, forgotten the night before.

“Hi, Lad!”

“Morgana,” he greets her. “You sound happy this morning.”

Morgana grins. “That’s because I _am._ ”

“Care to say why?”

She watches Merlin flip through the pages of the book he’d pulled out of his bag, hair flopping into his face. “Nope.” 

“Mhmm. You called me yesterday?”

“I did! Merlin suggested a place for us to go.”

“Merlin, huh?” Galahad teases, and Morgana hears his smile through the phone.

“Yes, _Merlin_. He’d be joining us, if that’s okay.”

“It would be as long as it’s not today and as long as you promise not to leave me to do the naughty in the bathroom and get us thrown out of wherever we’re going.”

“Galahad!”

Merlin looks up from his book, cocking an eyebrow at her reaction. She rolls her eyes, and Merlin’s lips quirk into a grin.

“What?! You’re with him right now, aren’t you?”

“How could you possibly…?”

“It’s early afternoon on a Sunday, you sound _disgusting_ ly happy, and I saw the two of you on Friday night. It was only a matter of time.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

“I do try.”

Morgana snorts. “We’ll see you later in the week, then?”

“Awww, ‘ _we_ ’!”

“ _Galahad._ ”

“Sorry.” He coughs.

Morgana frowns. “Is everything okay?”

“I caught some sort of bug. I went to a vernissage last night, and I think something was wrong with the shrimp.”

“I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”

“Not unless you want to see me being sick?”

“That, I do not.”

“Besides, it might just be a bug, in which case I don’t want you to catch it and ruin your reunion honeymoon.”

Morgana wolfishly grins, running her eyes over Merlin’s mercilessly bare chest as he reaches over for a water bottle he’d left on her night table and drinks.

“No, I’m certainly not done having my way with Merlin just yet. I won’t come within a hundred feet of you and risk getting sick.”

Merlin splutters at her words and begins to cough, face and ears turning red.

“I should go, Lad,” she adds, sitting up to pat Merlin on the back. “Feel better!”

“What was that?” Merlin asks

“Galahad has a stomach bug, and he wishes us well.”

Merlin’s flush deepens. “Did you have to tell him?”

“He guessed, Merlin, and it’s alright, we’re all adults.”

“Oh, my god,” Merlin mutters.

“What?”

“ _Gwen_! I forgot I was supposed to have dinner with Arthur and Gwen.” 

Morgana leans back against her headboard. “She’s going to be insufferable. Are you going to tell her?”

“Do you want to tell her?”

Morgana smirks. “We _could_ mess with her. Pretend to still be on the outs.”

Merlin swallows, eyes wide. “I think we should tell her. I don’t have it in me to pretend, Morgana.”

Morgana’s smile softens and she reaches out and strokes Merlin’s stubbly cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Okay. Then we tell her. And Arthur.”

 

* * *

Gwen’s eyes widen when they show up together, and her shriek sounds down the street as Merlin’s ears redden and give them away before they even have a chance to speak. Morgana grins at her reaction, simply happy that they’d decided to meet _outside_ the restaurant.

“I knew it!” Gwen exclaims, turning to Arthur with a smile. “You owe me money.”

Arthur grumbles and shakes his head at them. “Couldn’t you have waited another week?”

Morgana shakes her head at them. “Arthur, I understand, but Gwen?!”

“Really, I thought you would be the last one to profit from our pain.”

“Honestly.” Gwen rolls her eyes. “I betted on you getting back together sooner rather than later, not _against_ you. Though mind you, I was ready to change my bet after you suggested showing up at her flat with vegan sushi yesterday.”

Morgana feels her own cheeks heating up at that, and Gwen squeals anew.

“ _No_!”

“Morgana doesn’t share your prejudice, Gwen.”

“Please tell me he at least brought you flowers?”

Morgana snorts. “You know that doesn’t work on me. I like flowers, but not when it comes to life-altering decisions.”

“No, for that you apparently have _sushi._ ”

Morgana grins, looking up at Merlin. “No, for that I have Merlin.”

Arthur looks at them both with distaste. “I’m glad you’ve…” he pauses, gesturing between them, “worked things out, but that’s just disgusting. _Merlin?_ ”

Morgana’s smile grows. “Don’t be immature, Arthur. You wouldn’t be able to handle Merlin.”

“And right before dinner. Can we leave them, Gwen? Please?”

Gwen snorts, shaking her head at them all and stepping towards the entrance to the bistro. “I thought I was getting two children off my hands, and now I have three.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this one! I started two other Mergana one-shots this week and then got stuck on everything. Hopefully the next update comes faster! Thank you for reading.

“Morgana? What are you doing?” Merlin asks, leaning against the doorframe between the bathroom and the only room of his studio.

Morgana had asked to go to his flat after dinner, neither wanting to part ways just yet, and Merlin had readily agreed, reluctantly yet eagerly leading her back to the area near Monmouth. She’d never been to any of his flats, here or years ago, and for all the things that have changed, he was worried she would look at him differently because of it.

“They say you should always see a man's books before you start sleeping with him," she says, without looking away from the bookshelf in front of her. Every spare inch of his walls are covered in books, and based on where she’s standing by his desk, he assumes she’d scanned through most of them as he’d changed for the night.

Merlin scoffs. "You know what I read."

"Yes, but I need to make sure you don't have any Hemingway or Bukowski novels hidden anywhere." She narrows her eyes in the middle of her joke. "You don't, do you?"

Merlin mocks a look of horror. "I am deeply offended that you would think such a thing of me, Morgana. _Deeply_ offended."

"Well you never know with all the scruff you have going."

Merlin frowns, pushing away from the wall and moving to her side. "You don't like my scruff?"

Morgana grins. "I think it looks ridiculously sexy, though mind you,” she says, trailing off to loop her arms around his neck and brush against his lips before leaning in closer to his ear, “certain things might _feel_ a little more pleasant with a little less of it."

“Like?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She smoothes her hands down his shoulders and places her palms flat against his chest. “That gorgeous thing you did with your mouth this morning.”

Merlin feels the blood rushing to his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“Did it _sound_ like you were hurting me?” she asks, eyebrow and lip curving upwards.

“No,” he replies hoarsely. “But you would like it better without?”

Morgana cocks her head to the side and smirks.

Merlin nods and steps back towards the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to shave it off?”

“ _Now_?!”

“Would you rather I waited until morning?”

“You don’t have to at all, you know.”

He watches the amusement flutter across her face and grins. “Oh, yes I do.”

She follows him, watching as he gets out his razor and slowly lathers his face. He has the blade to his cheek when she speaks.

“Let me?”

He pauses and meets her eyes in the mirror. They’re soft yet determined, and his hand quivers at the tenderness behind them. He holds out the razor, and she steps over and gently takes it from his hands.

“Just don’t cut me.”

She smirks and firmly holds onto his chin. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Morgana begins, pausing between words as she kisses her way up Merlin’s chest before curling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. “This was a much nicer way to spend the night than I had planned.”

“I thought you _had_ planned to spend the night with me.”

“I meant before you came over and seduced me last night. I was _planning_ to spend the weekend working.”

“ _I_ seduced _you_?”

Morgana nods matter of factly against his chest. “It was your hair. And your smile. But mostly your hair. You have no idea what it does to me when it’s messy.”

Merlin laughs into her hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Morgana smiles and trails a hand along his ribs. They lie quietly for several moments until Morgana mumbles, “You have a tiny bed.”

“I have a tiny flat.”

“It suits you though.”

“I’m not sure how I should take that?”

“No, I mean it has character,” Morgana insists, rolling her eyes. “It _feels_ very Merlin.”

“Small, cramped, full of light?”

“Full of personality and knowledge and warmth. I’d much rather this than Arthur and Gwen’s massive house.”

“You would?”

“Mhmm.”

Merlin presses another kiss to the side of her head and mumbles into her hair. “I missed you.”

Morgana feels warmth spiralling through her and tightens her grip on his side. She doesn’t echo his words, even though her heart screams out for her to do so. Instead, she burrows into him, sticking one leg between his and allows herself to drift off to sleep as Merlin traces feather-light circles into her back.

 

* * *

 

Morgana wakes not to a nightmare but to hisses that cut through her subconscious plane, transforming her dreamscape into that of howling winter winds that lead her to a pair of glowing, yellow eyes at the end of a long, frozen tunnel. She starts to consciousness and yelps when her eyes flutter open to the same yellow lights.

Merlin jolts awake beside her, sitting up and reaching for his bedside lamp. “What is it? Are you okay?”

The lights flicker on and Morgana finds herself face to face with an enormous, grey cat. Its ears are flattened and as it begins to hiss at the room’s sudden illumination, she can’t help but laugh as her pulse slows back down.

“Kilgharrah,” Merlin mutters, moving to chase the cat off the bed. “Did he bother you?”

“I think he was hissing at me as I slept? He startled me awake is all. You weren’t joking when you said he was hostile.”

“I’m sorry.”

Morgana laughs. “It’s fine.” She squints at the clock on Merlin’s desk, having taken out her contacts and left her glasses in her bag, and notes the fine ray of muted light coming in through the cracks in the curtains. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost six,” Merlin groans. “I actually need to get up. I have a first year tutorial at eight. You can stay and sleep, if you want.”

“No, I’ll get up, too. I want to go to Nimueh’s lunchtime lecture again, and I need to go through some files first. I think I’ll finally have some leading questions to ask her,” she announces, grinning to herself.

“I thought you said your meeting with her on Friday was a dead end.”

“It was, but I may have come across some things,” she vaguely replies. She has no doubt Merlin will disapprove of her techniques, and she doesn’t want to rock the unsteady boat until she knows what Nimueh is up to for sure.

“She’s particularly cold with students, you know.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Do you need me to play the staff card for you?”

Morgana grins. “I think I’ll manage, but thank you. It’s good to know I have an insider on my side.”

Merlin snorts. “Is that what I am to you now?”  

“Of course!” Morgana teases, rising up on her toes to peck him on the lips before skipping towards the bathroom. “Why else would I be sleeping with the university's up and coming star?”

Merlin shakes his head with an expression of mock disapproval on his face. “First the coffee, now this.”

 

* * *

 

He still makes her coffee and has it ready when she pads into the kitchen minutes later, glasses perched on her nose and adorably still dressed in one of his pyjama tops.

“It smells lovely in here.”

He spins around, coffee mug in hand and passes it over to her. “I didn’t have any milk… or cocoa, but I thought…”

“You know I love coffee in every form. Thank you.” She beams as she wraps her fingers around the cup and sips, closing her eyes.

Her hair mussed and her favourite thing in the world in her hands, he thinks she looks the happiest he’s seen her all week. “You really do love coffee more than anything, don’t you?”

Morgana nods before taking another sip.

Despite himself, Merlin feels a twinge of disappointment at her immediate agreement

until she grins at him and adds, “Just about.”

Merlin swallows, grinning back at her, and turns around to pour himself a cup of his own.

“Aren’t these the cups from the coffee shop?” Morgana asks, her voice suddenly softer than it had been.

“They are. Gaius didn’t want them, and I was going off on my own, so…”

“Of course. I’m glad you still have them.”

Merlin smiles, leaning against the counter as Morgana perches on the windowsill. “We need to talk…” Morgana’s face begins to drop, and Merlin quickly goes on. “Before we both show up at the university and before anyone other than Arthur and Gwen finds out.”

“Okay… Do you want to keep us secret?”

Morgana looks down, tapping her fingers along the cup, just as she used to do whenever she was uneasy.

“Before we decide that, I think we need to figure out what we’re doing.”

“I thought that was fairly obvious?” she asks.

“Is it?”

“Isn’t it?”

Her voice is on edge, and Merlin sighs.  “ _Morgana._ ”

“Okay, then what do you want from this?”

“I want to move on.”

Morgana blanches but then stands up and puts down her cup, eyes suddenly hardening.  “Okay. Well, it’s been a nice weekend.”

“Morgana!”

“No, Merlin, it’s fine.”

“Would you listen to me? That isn’t what I meant! I meant, _together._ I want us to move on _together_.”

“Oh,” Morgana breathes.  “So you forgive me, then? For everything?”

Merlin swallows. He needs to be honest for this to work, for them to move forward. “I’m ready to forgive you, but I’m not… I’m not completely done hurting yet.”

“But you’re getting there?”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

“What do _you_ want?”

“I want the same thing, but I can’t… I _won’t_ if you still blame me.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t. I’m still hurt by what happened, but I don’t blame you…” He trails off, thinking how to best express the rest of his concerns. All he needs from her is honesty. Swallowing, he goes on, “But I do need to know that you’ll be honest with me from here on out. I don’t expect you to tell me everything, obviously, but if something concerns both of us or might end up concerning both of us, then I want you to come to me instead of trying to face everything on your own.”

Morgana nods. “Fine, but the same goes for you.”

“Fine.”

“So we’re together?”

“We are,” Merlin confirms, beaming.

Morgana mirrors his expression, leaning back against the windowsill. “Do we tell people?”

“What do _you_ want?”

“I say we don’t hide it, but we keep it on a need to know basis for now.”

Merlin nods. “I think that’s good, and I think we should keep it off campus for now?”

Morgana pouts. “So we can’t meet up between your classes or for lunch or …?”

“Well as long you don’t jump me…”

Morgana snorts. “As if I ever would in public.”

“Well I can’t say I would never be tempted.”

Morgana raises a single, arched eyebrow. “Then maybe you should be warning yourself.”

“Maybe I should.”

 

* * *

 

After promising to meet Merlin for a post-lecture lunch, Morgana kisses him goodbye and heads back to her flat. She takes her time walking, revelling in the crisp, autumn air and the feelings of joy that intermittently run through her. That Merlin’s views align with her own and that he wants to be with her causes her to smile every few seconds, and she practically skips up the steps to her flat.

She does have much to work on with the documents she’s lifted from Nimueh’s files, not having been able to look at them since the library on Saturday, and she gets right to it after showering and changing into a fresh outfit. She browses through six documents without any luck, but on the seventh, she alights on the research proposal Nimueh had submitted to three different Druid institutions for funding.

She scans through until she comes across multiple references to alchemy and stops in disbelief.

“ _No_.”

She goes back and reads more carefully and huffs in disbelief, waking Aithusa from where he’s perched on the table beside her laptop.

 

* * *

 

Merlin speeds through his tutorial, improvising far more than he usually does. He’d meant to revise his class plan the night before to fill in the gaps and come up with more examples to give his students, but he’d gotten distracted by Morgana and spent more time curled around her than immersed in his work. He smiles at the recollection, and giggles sound through the room.

He raises his brows and fixes the guilty culprits with a look he’d adopted from Gaius.

“Is something funny?”

One of the guilty students is a flirtatious first year who’s showed up at his office hour more than once, and she turns red at his enquiry.

“No, Sir,” says the young man sitting beside her. “You seem particularly happy this morning is all.”

“That,” Merlin improvises, “is because I’ve come up with more work for you all to do today.”

Merlins sets them with a research exercise at random, smiling to himself as he writes out page numbers on the board.

 

* * *

 

Morgana arrives at Monmouth just in time for Nimueh’s lecture, slipping into a seat near the front moments before she takes to the podium and begins her talk.

Nimueh makes no references to her discoveries. Though it’s the norm for Monmouth professors to use their lecture courses to experiment with their research interests and test out new material, Morgana isn’t particularly surprised.

She approaches her after the lecture, and she notices Nimueh’s face set to stone at the sight of her.

“Dr Nimueh.”

“Ms Pendragon.”

Morgana resists reacting to the use of her name. She’d concealed her identity from Nimueh, and it disturbs her that she’d uncovered it despite her. She sets her expression to one of indifference and goes on with her intended topic, “I was wondering if I could have a few more minutes of your time.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.”

“I was hoping you could say more about your research on alchemy and your supposed discovery of the stone.”

Nimueh narrows her eyes and fixes her jaw. “I don’t know how you found out about that, Ms Pendragon, but I am not at liberty to discuss the topic.”

Morgana nods and opens her mouth to contest, but Nimueh cuts her off as she begins to speak.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I do know for a fact that you are not registered with the university and that you approached me with false motives last week. I am also perfectly aware that you are Uther Pendragon’s daughter and heir, and I refuse to have anything further to do with the likes of you. If you attempt any further contact, I will have you banned from the university.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow before nodding and walking off. She wants to scream, not yet wanting to tell Elaine of her failure. She pushes through the door of the lecture hall and stops, hoping to catch her breath and calm down before meeting Merlin, but he’s already perched on against an opposite wall, waiting for her.

 

 


End file.
